Treasure Island

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

I do but ask that you be always fair


I do but ask that you be always fair
That I forever may continue kind;
Knowing me what I am, you should not dare
To lapse from beauty ever, nor seek to bind
My alterable mood with lesser cords;
Weeping and such soft matters must invite
To further vagrancy; and bitter words
Chafe soon to irremediable flight,
Wherefore I pray you if you love me dearly,
Less dear to hold me than your own bright charms,
Whence it may fall that until death, or nearly,
I shall not move to struggle from your arms:
Fade if you must,--I would but bid you be
Like the sweet year, doing all things graciously.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

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  • Colleen Courtney (5/17/2014 9:31:00 AM)

    I love this poem. Almost feels as if she's asking, if you are going to hurt me please be gentle and kind and I'll let go with peace and love. But don't be cruel and mess with my mind! The wrath of a woman scorned is something to beware! (Report) Reply

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