Edna St. Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends;    It will not last the night;   But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends —    It gives a lovely light

I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to
Your person fair, and feel a certain
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:

I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death
I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor
He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning

I drank at every vine
The last was like the first
I came upon no wine      So wonderful as thirst
I gnawed at every root

I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear

The trees along this city street Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet As trees in country lanes
And people standing in their shade Out of a shower, undoubtedly Would hear such music as is made Upon a ...

Gazing upon him now, severe and dead, It seemed a curious thing that she had lain Beside him many a night in that cold bed, And that had been which would not be again
From his desirous body the great heat Was gone at last, it seemed, and the ...

Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,— Rough stalks, and from thick stamens A poisonous pollen blown,
And odors rank, unbreathable, From dark corollas thrown
At dawn from my damp garden I shook the chilly dew;
Th...

Silver bark of beech, and
Bark of yellow birch and yellow    Twig of willow
Stripe of green in moosewood maple,
Colour seen in leaf of apple,    Bark of popple

Once from a big, big building,
When I was small, small,
The queer folk in the
Would smile at me and call

This door you might not open, and you did; So enter now, and see for what slight thing You are betrayed… Here is no treasure hid, No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain For greed like yours, no writhi...

Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare
Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace,
And lay them prone upon the earth and cease To ponder on themselves, the while they stare At nothing, intricately drawn nowhere In shapes of shifting li...