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Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Passer Mortuus Est

Death devours all lovely things;
Lesbia with her sparrow
Shares the darkness,—presently
Every bed is narrow.
 
Unremembered as old rain
Dries the sheer libation,
And the little petulant hand
Is an annotation.
 
After all, my erstwhile dear,
My no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?

#AmericanWriters

Otras obras de Edna St. Vincent Millay...
She Is Overheard Singing

Oh, Prue she has a patient man, And Joan a gentle lover, And Agatha’s Arth’ is a hug-the-h… But my true love’s a rover! Mig, her man’s as good as cheese
Sonnet 05: If I Should Learn, in Some Quite Casual Way

If I should learn, in some quite… That you were gone, not to return… Read from the back-page of a paper… Held by a neighbor in a subway tra… How at the corner of this avenue
Renascence

All I could see from where I stoo… Was three long mountains and a woo… I turned and looked another way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line
And Do You Think That Love Itself

And do you think that love itself, Living in such an ugly house, Can prosper long? We meet and part; Our talk is all of heres and nows,
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The Singing-Woman From the Wood’s Edge

What should I be but a prophet an… Whose mother was a leprechaun, who… Teethed on a crucifix and cradled… What should I be but the fiend’s… And who should be my playmates but…
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The Little Ghost

I knew her for a little ghost That in my garden walked; The wall is high—higher than most— And the green gate was locked. And yet I did not think of that
Sonnets 07: When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face

When I too long have looked upon… Wherein for me a brightness unobsc… Save by the mists of brightness ha… And terrible beauty not to be endu… I turn away reluctant from your li…
Lines for a Grave

Man alive, that mournst thy lot, Desiring what thou hast not got, Money, beauty, love, what not; Deeming it blesseder to be A rotted man, than live to see
Sonnets (1923)

VIII8. Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that… . Give back my book and take my kiss… .
Lament

Listen, children: Your father is dead. From his old coats I’ll make you little jackets; I’ll make you little trousers
God’s World

O world, I cannot hold thee close…    Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!    Thy mists that roll and rise! Thy woods this autumn day, that ac… And all but cry with colour! That…
An Ancient Gesture

I thought, as I wiped my eyes on… Penelope did this too. And more than once: you can’t keep… And undoing it all through the nig… Your arms get tired, and the back…
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Pastoral

If it were only still!— With far away the shrill Crying of a cock; Or the shaken bell From a cow’s throat
Dirge

Boys and girls that held her dear, Do your weeping now; All you loved of her lies here. Brought to earth the arrogant brow… And the withering tongue
The Blue

God had called us, and we came; Our loved Earth to ashes left; Heaven was a neighbor’s house, Open to us, bereft. Gay the lights of Heaven showed,



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