Edna St. Vincent Millay

(22 February 1892 – 19 October 1950 / Rockland / Maine / United States)

Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems

121. The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver 1/13/2003
122. The Bean-Stalk 1/13/2003
123. The Betrothal 1/1/2004
124. The Blue-Flag In The Bog 1/13/2003
125. The Concert 1/13/2003
126. The Courage That My Mother Had 1/3/2015
127. The Curse 1/13/2003
128. The Death Of Autumn 1/13/2003
129. The Dream 1/13/2003
130. The Fawn 1/13/2003
131. The Fledgling 1/13/2003
132. The Goose-Girl 1/13/2003
133. The Leaf And The Tree 1/13/2003
134. The Little Ghost 1/13/2003
135. The Little Hill 1/13/2003
136. The Penitent 1/13/2003
137. The Philosopher 1/13/2003
138. The Plaid Dress 1/13/2003
139. The Poet And His Book 1/13/2003
140. The Prisoner 7/30/2015
141. The Return From Town 1/13/2003
142. The Shroud 1/13/2003
143. The Singing-Woman From The Wood's Edge 1/13/2003
144. The Snow Storm 1/13/2003
145. The Spring And The Fall 1/13/2003
146. The Suicide 1/13/2003
147. The True Encounter 1/13/2003
148. The Unexplorer 1/13/2003
149. The Wood Road 1/13/2003
150. Think Not, Not For A Moment Let Your Mind 1/13/2003
151. Three Songs Of Shattering 1/13/2003
152. Thursday 1/1/2004
153. To A Poet That Died Young 1/13/2003
154. To A Young Poet 1/1/2004
155. To Kathleen 1/1/2004
156. To The Not Impossible Him 1/13/2003
157. To Those Without Pity 1/13/2003
158. Travel 1/13/2003
159. Two Sonnets In Memory 1/13/2003
160. Underground System 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Edna St. Vincent Millay

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why (Sonnet Xliii)

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A ...

Read the full of What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why (Sonnet Xliii)

The Betrothal

Oh, come, my lad, or go, my lad,
And love me if you like.
I shall not hear the door shut
Nor the knocker strike.
Oh, bring me gifts or beg me gifts,
And wed me if you will.
I'd make a man a good wife,
Sensible and still.
And why should I be cold, my lad,

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