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To A Friend Estranged From Me

Now goes under, and I watch it go under, the

That will not rise again.

Today has seen the setting, in your eyes cold and senseless as the sea,

Of friendship better than bread, and of bright

That lifts a man a little above the beasts that run.

That this could be!

That I should live to

Most vulgar Pride, that stale obstreperous clown,

So fitted out with purple robe and

To stand among his betters!

Face to

With outraged me in this once holy place,

Where Wisdom was a favoured guest and

Truth was harboured out of danger,

He bulks enthroned, a lewd, an insupportable stranger!

I would have sworn, indeed I swore it:

The hills may shift, the waters may decline,

Winter may twist the stem from the twig that bore it,

But never your love from me, your hand from mine.

Now goes under the sun, and I watch it go under.

Farewell, sweet light, great wonder!

You, too, farewell,-but fare not well enough to

You have done wisely to invite the night before the darkness came.

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Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay (February 22, 1892 – October 19, 1950) was an American lyrical poet and playwright.

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