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Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Edna St. Vincent Millay
Age: 58 †
Born: 1892
Born: February 22
Died: 1950
Died: October 19
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Rose
Flower
Loved
Cannot
Bewilder
Wells
Mound
Well
Heap
Roses
Smell

More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach, And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling, The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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O troubled forms, O early love unfortunate and hard, Time has estranged you into a jewel cold and pure
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And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.
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Please don't think me negligent or rude. I am both, in effect, of course, but please don't think me either.
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We were so wholly one I had not thought That we could die apart. I had not thought That I could move,—and you be stiff and still! That I could speak,—and you perforce be dumb! I think our heart-strings were, like warp and woof In some firm fabric, woven in and out Your golden filaments in fair design Across my duller fibre.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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I have loved badly, loved the great Too soon, withdrawn my words too late And eaten in an echoing hall Alone and from a chipped plate The words that I withdrew too late.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Cut if you will with sleep's dull knife, the years from off your life, my friend! the years that death takes off my life, he'll take from off the other end!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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After the feet of beauty fly my own.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Lord I do fear / Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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I am all the time talking about you, and bragging, to one person or another. I am like the Ancient Mariner, who had a tale in his heart he must unfold to all. I am always buttonholing somebody and saying, Someday you must meet my mother.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death I am not on his pay-roll.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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A person who publishes a book appears willfully in public eye with his pants down.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Progress-progress is the dirtiest word in the language-who ever told us- And made us believe it-that to take a step forward was necessarily, was always A good idea?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo and the happier he
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I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.
Edna St. Vincent Millay