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O troubled forms, O early love unfortunate and hard, Time has estranged you into a jewel cold and pure
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Edna St. Vincent Millay
Age: 58 †
Born: 1892
Born: February 22
Died: 1950
Died: October 19
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Rockland
Maine
Nancy Boyd
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Lovers
Early
Pure
Estranged
Cold
Jewel
Form
Troubled
Hard
Jewels
Time
Unfortunate
Love
Forms
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I know, but I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
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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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If I could have two things in one: the peace of the grave, and the light of the sun.
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Stranger, pause and look From the dust of ages Lift this little book, Turn the tattered pages, Read me, do not let me die! Search the fading letters finding Steadfast in the broken binding All that once was I!
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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 am not at all in favor of hard work for its own sake many people who work very hard indeed produce terrible things, and should most certainly not be encouraged.
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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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We think-although of course, now, we very seldom Clearly think- That the other side of War is Peace.
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After the feet of beauty fly my own.
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I will come back to you, I swear I will And you will know me still. I shall be only a little taller Than when I went.
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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
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I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.
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I am not afraid of lawyers as I used to be. They are lambs in wolves' clothing.
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Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour falls from the sky a meteoric shower of facts They lie unquestioned, uncombined. Wisdom enough to leech us of our ill is daily spun, But there exists no loom to weave it into fabric.
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A ghost in marble of a girl you knew Who would have loved you in a day or two.
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The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while.
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Youth, have no pity leave no farthing here For age to invest in compromise and fear.
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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.
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Oh, children, growing up to be Adventurers into sophistry, Forbear, forbear to be of those That read the rood to learn the rose.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
It's not true that life is one damn thing after another it is one damn thing over and over.
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