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Edna St. Vincent Millay: Renascence

All I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood;
I turned and looked the other way,
And saw three islands in a bay.

April 22, 2022 · 7 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: When you, that at this moment are to me

When you, that at this moment are to me
Dearer than words on paper, shall depart,
And be no more the warder of my heart…

February 11, 2022 · 2 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Recuerdo

We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-
covered head,
And bought a morning paper which neither of us
read;
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and
pears,
and we gave her all our money but our subway fares.

December 24, 2021 · 3 Comments

Michelle Bitting: Pandemic Mask Sonnet

The world’s gone mad at the wheel
While bees and seas soar for bloom, germs and chaos
Straining against reorder.

November 21, 2021 · 8 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Afternoon on a Hill

I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.

September 18, 2021 · 4 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: She had forgotten how the August Night

She had forgotten how the August night
Was level as a lake beneath the moon,
In which she swam a little, losing sight
Of shore

August 6, 2021 · Leave a comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: I shall go back again to the bleak shore

I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand…

December 11, 2020 · Leave a comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: “Parisian Dream” by Charles Baudelaire

And, proud of what my art had done,
I viewed my painting, knew the great
Intoxicating monotone
Of marble, water, steel and slate.

July 31, 2020 · Leave a comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Travel

The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.

May 29, 2020 · 3 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: The courage that my mother had

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

May 10, 2020 · 2 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: I shall forget you presently, my dear (Sonnet IV)

I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day

May 8, 2020 · Leave a comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave

Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave,
Mortal Endymion, darling of the Moon!

May 8, 2020 · Leave a comment

Charlotte Mew: A Quoi Bon Dire

Seventeen years ago you said
Something that sounded like Good-bye;
And everybody thinks that you are dead,
But I.

May 8, 2020 · Leave a comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Humoresque

“What queer books she must have read!”

February 29, 2020 · Leave a comment

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