All Poems

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Wild Swans

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

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 to match the flight of wild birds flying.

Chorus

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Give away her gowns,
Give away her shoes;
She has no more use
For her fragrant gowns;

The Snow Storm

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

No hawk hangs over in this air:
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,

Sonnet 05: If I Should Learn, In Some Quite Casual Way

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

If I should learn, in some quite casual way,
That you were gone, not to return again
Read from the back-page of a paper, say,
Held by a neighbor in a subway train,

I Dreamed I Moved Among The Elysian Fields

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

I dreamed I moved among the Elysian fields,
In converse with sweet women long since dead;
And out of blossoms which that meadow yields
I wove a garland for your living head.

To A Poet That Died Young

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Still, though none should hark again,
Drones the blue-fly in the pane,
Thickly crusts the blackest moss,
Blows the rose its musk across,
Floats the boat that is forgot
None the less to Camelot.

Weeds

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

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.

Sonnets 07: When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,

Prayer To Persephone

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Be to her, Persephone,
All the things I might not be:
Take her head upon your knee.
She that was so proud and wild,

Afternoon On A Hill

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

The Leaf And The Tree

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Here, I think, is the heart's grief:
The tree, no mightier than the leaf,
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown
And stands; but in the end comes down.
That airy top no boy could climb

Bluebeard

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed... Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring

Inland

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

People that build their houses inland,
People that buy a plot of ground
Shaped like a house, and build a house there,
Far from the sea-board, far from the sound

Two Sonnets In Memory

(Nicola Sacco -- Bartolomeo Vanzetti)
Executed August 23, 1927

I

The Philosopher

And what are you that, wanting you,
I should be kept awake
As many nights as there are days
With weeping for your sake?

Assault

I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not so have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.

Love, Though for This

ILOVE, though for this you riddle me with darts,
And drag me at your chariot till I die,
Oh, heavy prince! O, panderer of hearts!
Yet hear me tell how in their throats they lie

There was a road ran past our house
Too lovely to explore.
I asked my mother onceshe said
That if you followed where it led
It brought you to the milk-man's door.
(That's why I have not travelled more.)

The Dream

Love, if I weep it will not matter,
And if you laugh I shall not care;
Foolish am I to think about it,
But it is good to feel you there.

Elegy

Let them bury your big eyes
In the secret earth securely,
Your thin fingers, and your fair,
Soft, indefinite-colored hair,