Edna St. Vincent Millay

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

Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems

121. The Snow Storm 1/13/2003
122. Blight 1/13/2003
123. Mariposa 1/13/2003
124. Ebb 1/13/2003
125. When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face 1/1/2004
126. Witch-Wife 1/13/2003
127. Mist In The Valley 1/13/2003
128. If I Should Learn, In Some Quite Casual Way 1/1/2004
129. Pity Me Not Because The Light Of Day 1/13/2003
130. I Dreamed I Moved Among The Elysian Fields 1/13/2003
131. Grown-Up 1/1/2004
132. Departure 1/13/2003
133. Alms 1/13/2003
134. Euclid Alone 1/1/2004
135. Sonnet 02: Time Does Not Bring Relief; You All Have Lied 1/13/2003
136. Daphne 1/13/2003
137. Travel 1/13/2003
138. Second Fig 1/13/2003
139. Burial 1/13/2003
140. Assault 1/13/2003
141. Renascence 1/4/2003
142. Oh, Oh, You Will Be Sorry 1/13/2003
143. [four Sonnets (1922)] 1/1/2004
144. The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver 1/13/2003
145. I Know I Am But Summer To Your Heart 1/13/2003
146. Only Until This Cigarette Is Ended 1/1/2004
147. I Shall Go Back 1/1/2004
148. Being Young And Green 1/13/2003
149. Spring 1/13/2003
150. And Do You Think That Love Itself 1/13/2003
151. Here Is A Wound That Never Will Heal, I Know 1/13/2003
152. Counting-Out Rhyme 1/1/2004
153. God's World 1/4/2003
154. I, Being Born A Woman And Distressed 1/1/2004
155. Ashes Of Life 1/13/2003
156. Apostrophe To Man 1/13/2003
157. Autumn Daybreak 1/13/2003
158. Bluebeard 1/1/2004
159. And You As Well Must Die, Belovèd Dust 1/1/2004
160. An Ancient Gesture 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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