Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems

1. The Prisoner 7/30/2015
2. Inert Perfection 3/11/2016
3. She Is Overheard Singing 6/18/2015
4. I will put Chaos into fourteen lines 10/24/2015
5. Childhood Is The Kingdom Where Nobody Dies 11/28/2014
6. The Courage That My Mother Had 1/3/2015
7. We Talk Of Taxes... 1/1/2004
8. The Fledgling 1/13/2003
9. Underground System 1/13/2003
10. Sonnet 04: Not In This Chamber Only At My Birth 1/13/2003
11. Sonnets 11: As To Some Lovely Temple, Tenantless 1/13/2003
12. Sonnets 12: Cherish You Then The Hope I Shall Forget 1/13/2003
13. Sonnet Iii: Mindful Of You The Sodden Earth 1/1/2004
14. Sonnet V: If I Should Learn 1/1/2004
15. Memorial To D.C. 1/13/2003
16. Pastoral 1/13/2003
17. Lines Written In Recapitulation 1/13/2003
18. Sonnets From An Ungrafted Tree 1/13/2003
19. Sonnets 02: Into The Golden Vessel Of Great Song 1/13/2003
20. Menses 1/13/2003
21. The Bean-Stalk 1/13/2003
22. Fontaine, Je Ne Boirai Pas De Ton Eau! 1/13/2003
23. The Blue-Flag In The Bog 1/13/2003
24. Whereas At Morning In A Jeweled Crown 1/13/2003
25. The Penitent 1/13/2003
26. My Most Distinguished Guest And Learned Friend 1/13/2003
27. Two Sonnets In Memory 1/13/2003
28. Sonnets 05: Once More Into My Arid Days Like Dew 1/13/2003
29. Rosemary 1/13/2003
30. The Wood Road 1/13/2003
31. Portrait By A Neighbour 1/13/2003
32. Inland 1/13/2003
33. I Know The Face Of Falsehood And Her Tongue 1/13/2003
34. Sonnets 06: No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew 1/13/2003
35. Eel-Grass 1/13/2003
36. The Singing-Woman From The Wood's Edge 1/13/2003
37. If Still Your Orchards Bear 1/13/2003
38. Three Songs Of Shattering 1/13/2003
39. Not Even My Pride Shall Suffer Much 1/13/2003
40. The Little Hill 1/13/2003

Comments about Edna St. Vincent Millay

  • May. Red (1/13/2018 12:56:00 AM)

    @patricia My favorite poem ever. Short and to the point

    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Patricia Stepanchak (12/15/2017 10:53:00 AM)

    My candle burns at both ends
    It will not last the night
    But oh my foes and ah my friends
    It gives a lovely light.
    This keeps running through my head.
    My college English Professor often quoted this poem as her favorite.

  • Betty Roe (1/18/2016 4:14:00 PM)

    can someone she light on the Edns St. Vincent Millay's poem, I Could No Let You Go from Mementos of Millay?

  • Hunter Freaking Foster (11/22/2013 3:21:00 PM)

    Truly an awesome poet. I majored in poetry, and I can say for myself that this is a great poet.

  • John Hardesty (7/2/2013 1:29:00 PM)

    Maine claims her, and America labeled her a poet! Would have loved to met her, in her time! One of my favorite and most cherished!

  • Willie Walker (2/16/2012 3:33:00 PM)

    And I to lie with you, Melissa. On a bright sunshiny morning in the High Sierras or in an evening during the magic of an alpenglow..

  • Gabrielle A. Macdonald (1/18/2012 7:25:00 PM)

    One of the poems iin which Millay is shattered and humiliated not by the loss of love but by the travesty of justice during the Sacco-Vanzetti trumped up trial. Both were executed - more for being Italian immigrants and anarchists..than for anything based on evidence. Compare to the infamous Dreyfuss Affair in France.
    The pernicious weeds have won, Millay's character thinks.

  • Michael Harmon (4/19/2009 4:24:00 PM)

    I guess my previous information was incorrect. This PH biography seems to imply she died from smoking; my understanding was that she fell down a flight of steps at her home and broke her neck.

  • Melissa Nelson (10/21/2005 7:00:00 AM)

    This poem created a relaxing feel for me. I would give anything to be able to just lay under the sun on a hill.

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 Shroud

Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,—O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!

(I, that would not wait to wear
My own bridal things,
In a dress dark as my hair
Made my answerings.

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