Edna St. Vincent Millay
"Thin Rain, whom are you haunting,
That you haunt my door?"
—Surely it is not I she's wanting;
Someone living here before—
"Nobody's in the house but me:
You may come in if you like and see."
Thin as thread, with exquisite fingers,—
Have you seen her, any of you?—
Grey shawl, and leaning on the wind,
And the garden showing through?
Glimmering eyes,—and silent, mostly,
Sort of a whisper, sort of a purr,
Asking something, asking it over,
If you get a sound from her.—
Ever see her, any of you?—
Strangest thing I've ever known,—
Every night since I moved in,
And I came to be alone.
"Thin Rain, hush with your knocking!
You may not come in!
This is I that you hear rocking;
Nobody's with me, nor has been!"
Curious, how she tried the window,—
Odd, the way she tries the door,—
Wonder just what sort of people
Could have had this house before . . .
Edna St. Vincent Millay's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Wraith by Edna St. Vincent Millay )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Autism gets in the way, Katinka Havermans
- Withdrawal, Katinka Havermans
- Hills, Jack Growden
- A Carnation and a Tango, Sandra Feldman
- last day, ademola oluwabusayo
- Some soft feelings, Lalitha Narayanan
- Bonfire, Naveed Khalid
- A Friend's Promise, diana rose tolentino
- A poem-letter to my friends..., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- In the summer..., Cyndi K. Encinares Gacosta