Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millaywas an American poet and playwright. She received the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1923, the third woman to win the award for poetry, and was also known for her feminist activism. She used the pseudonym Nancy Boyd for her prose work. The poet Richard Wilbur asserted, "She wrote some of the best sonnets of the century."...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionAuthor
Date of Birth22 February 1892
CountryUnited States of America
educational lying fall
Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour falls from the sky a meteoric shower of facts; They lie unquestioned, uncombined. Wisdom enough to leech us of our ill is daily spun, But there exists no loom to weave it into fabric.
garden like-you stalking
I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
flower smell rose
Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well; why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.
breakup sweet lying
Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart. I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain, And I lie disheveled in the grass apart, A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain.
voice sea steps
And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea.
sweet remembers-you years
But you were something more than young and sweet And fair, - and the long year remembers you.
passion thinking roots
I do not think there is a woman in whom the roots of passion shoot deeper than in me.
valentine men hands
SHE is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine. She has more hair than she needs; In the sun ’tis a woe to me! And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea. She loves me all that she can, And her ways to my ways resign; But she was not made for any man, And she never will be all mine.
rain tonight ghost
... but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight
littles know-me swear
I will come back to you, I swear I will; And you will know me still. I shall be only a little taller Than when I went.
hair hands shoes
I dread no more the first white in my hair, Or even age itself, the easy shoe, The cane, the wrinkled hands, the special chair: Time, doing this to me, may alter too My anguish, into something I can bear
travel faithful fabric
The fabric of my faithful love No power shall dim or ravel Whilst I stay here - but oh, my dear, If I should ever travel!
self race our-actions
We are all ruled in what we do by impulses; and these impulses are so organized that our actions in general serve for our self preservation and that of the race.
mean headache sexuality
Oh, you mean I'm a homosexual! Of course I am, and heterosexual too, but what's that got to do with my headache?