Love poems

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Love, Though for This

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

Epitaph

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Heap not on this mound
Roses that she loved so well:
Why bewilder her with roses,
That she cannot see or smell?

Interim

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

The room is full of you!As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick!

Not In A Silver Casket Cool With Pearls

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Not in a silver casket cool with pearls
Or rich with red corundum or with blue,
Locked, and the key withheld, as other girls
Have given their loves, I give my love to you;

Witch-Wife

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

Sonnet 01: Thou Art Not Lovelier Than Lilacs,No

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Like him who day by day unto his draught
Of delicate poison adds him one drop more
Till he may drink unharmed the death of ten,
Even so, inured to beauty, who have quaffed
Each hour more deeply than the hour before,
I drinkand livewhat has destroyed some men.

Pity Me Not Because The Light Of Day

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pity me not because the light of day
At close of day no longer walks the sky;
Pity me not for beauties passed away
From field and thicket as the the year goes by;

Night Is My Sister, And How Deep In Love

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Night is my sister, and how deep in love,
How drowned in love and weedily washed ashore,
There to be fretted by the drag and shove
At the tide's edge, I liethese things and more:

Sonnet (Women Have Loved Before As I Love Now)

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Women have loved before as I love now;
At least, in lively chronicles of the past
Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow
Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast

Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart
I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain,
And lie disheveled in the grass apart,
A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain,

I Shall Forget You Presently

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

IVI SHALL forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day,
Your little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,

Alms

My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go;
But it is winter with your love,
The sashes are beset with snow.

I Think I Should Have Loved You

III THINK I should have loved you presently,
And given in earnest words I flung in jest;
And lifted honest eyes for you to see,
And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;

Ode To Silence

Aye, but she?
Your other sister and my other soul
Grave Silence, lovelier
Than the three loveliest maidens, what of her?

Here Is A Wound That Never Will Heal, I Know

Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow

The Suicide

Thus I to Life, and ceased, and slightly smiled,
Looking at nothing; and my thin dreams filed
Before me one by one till once again
I set new words unto an old refrain:

Dirge Without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.