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Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before
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
Tree
Vanished
Birds
Stands
Winter
Lonely
Thus
Silent
Bird
Boughs
More quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom, golden in the green grass, This life can be. Common as a dandelion-blossom, beautiful in the clean grass, not beautiful Because common, beautiful because beautiful, Noble because common, because free.
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She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
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You are loved. If so, what else matters?
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It's little I know what's in my heart,What's in my mind it's little I know,But there's that in me must up and start,And it's little I care where my feet go.
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If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you? I do not love you Thursday - so much is true.
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I am not a tentative person. Whatever I do, I give up my whole self to it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
When you are corn and roses and at rest I shall endure, a dense and sanguine ghost To haunt the scene where I was happiest To bend above the thing I loved the most
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If ever I said in grief or pride, I'd tired of honest things, I lied.
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I screamed, and--lo!--Infinity Came down and settled over me
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Evil alone has oil for every wheel.
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When I can make Of ten small words a rope to hang the world! I had you and I have you now no more.
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Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would note In me a beauty that was never mine, How first you knew me in a book I wrote, How first you loved me for a written line.
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And all the loveliest things there be come simply, so it seems to me.
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After the feet of beauty fly my own.
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Parrots, tortoises and redwoods live a longer life than men do Men a longer life than dogs do Dogs a longer life than love does.
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... but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight
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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.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne's Lace.
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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.
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Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
