Treasure Island

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

Whereas At Morning In A Jeweled Crown


Whereas at morning in a Jeweled Crown
I bit my fingers and was hard to please,
Having shook disaster till the fruit fell down
I feel tonight more happy and at ease:
Feet running in the corridors, men quick—
Buckling their sword-belts, bumping down the stair,
Challenge, and rattling bridge-chain, and the click
Of hooves on pavement—this will clear the air.
Private this chamber as it has not been
In many a month of muffled hours; almost,
Lulled by the uproar, I could lie serene
And sleep, until all's won, until all's lost,
And the door's opened and the issue shown,
And I walk forth Hell's Mistress—or my own.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: running, happy, sleep, lost

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Whereas At Morning In A Jeweled Crown by Edna St. Vincent Millay )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A Rainbow holder, Antonio Liao
  2. The Marketplace, Tony Adah
  3. Sailing Midnight, Steven Rhoads
  4. No one is, hasmukh amathalal
  5. Seizing The Arrears, Dexsta Ray
  6. I shall sing, hasmukh amathalal
  7. Thelo (1), Branden Aeling
  8. Why lord should look, hasmukh amathalal
  9. A to Z for You, Indranil Bit
  10. Our bretherne, hasmukh amathalal

Poem of the Day

poet James Whitcomb Riley

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey cock
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Claude McKay

 
[Hata Bildir]