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.
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.
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
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave
Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave,
Mortal Endymion, darling of the Moon!
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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Humoresque
“What queer books she must have read!”
Vox Populi: An Interview With Our Editor
On Friday, we caught up with poet, blogger, editor and activist Michael Simms at his kitchen table where he was preparing his Saturday morning post for Vox Populi.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Dirge without Music
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind…
Edna St. Vincent Millay: The Betrothal
And why should I be cold, my lad,
And why should you repine,
Because I love a dark head
That never will be mine?
Edna St Vincent Millay: Ashes of Life
Love has gone and left me, — and the neighbors knock and borrow,
And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Spring
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Modern Declaration
I, having loved ever since I was a child a few things, never having wavered In these affections; never through shyness in the houses of the rich or in the … Continue reading
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Wild Swans
I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over. And what did I see I had not seen before? Only a question less or a question more; Nothing … Continue reading
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Weeds
White with daisies and red with sorrel And empty, empty under the sky!— Life is a quest and love a quarrel— Here is a place for me to lie. Daisies … Continue reading
