Vincent Millay
Vincent Millay
running dream song
Ah, drink again This river that is the taker-away of pain, And the giver-back of beauty! In these cool waves What can be lost?-- Only the sorry cost Of the lovely thing, ah, never the thing itself! The level flood that laves The hot brow And the stiff shoulder Is at our temples now. Gone is the fever, But not into the river; Melted the frozen pride, But the tranquil tide Runs never the warmer for this, Never the colder. Immerse the dream. Drench the kiss. Dip the song in the stream.
book eye writing
A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down.
book thinking people
This book, when I am dead, will be A little faint perfume of me. People who knew me well will say, She really used to think that way.
sky soul caves
And he whose soul is flat -- the sky Will cave in on him by and by.
needs kind born
I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind...
heart knowing matter
My heart is warm with the friends I make, And better friends I'll not be knowing, Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take, No matter where it's going.
fall boards crumbs
Catch from the board of beauty/ Such careless crumbs as fall.
stars dark night
No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.
thinking clouds remember-you
I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to find Your person fair, and feel a certain zest To bear your body's weight upon my breast; So subtly is the fume of life designed, To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind, And leave me once again undone, possessed. Think not for this, however, the poor treason Of my stout blood against my staggering brain, I shall remember you with love, or season My scorn with pity, - let me make it plain: I find this frenzy insufficient reason For conversation when we meet again.
men made mines
But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.
life rain love-is
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again; Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath, Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone; Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
past lasts saws
I saw and heard, and knew at last The How and Why of all things, past, and present, and forevermore.
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.