Home

Visit our critical fiction and non-fiction forums at Everyauthor.com


 

> US political news
>
Automobile and car news and specs
> Aircraft profiles
> internet advertising networks, search engines, web resources
> poetry, poems and poets
> crossword puzzles, word search and jigsaw puzzles, office humor, games and jokes
> Bible verses and literature
> Avant News: Deadpan satire from plausible futures


Poetry of Edna St. Vincent Millay
Renascence

Three Songs of Shattering

          I

The first rose on my rose-tree
  Budded, bloomed, and shattered,
During sad days when to me
          Nothing mattered.

Grief of grief has drained me clean;
  Still it seems a pity
No one saw, -- it must have been
          Very pretty.


          II

Let the little birds sing;
  Let the little lambs play;
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring; --
  But not in the old way!

I recall a place
  Where a plum-tree grew;
There you lifted up your face,
  And blossoms covered you.

If the little birds sing,
  And the little lambs play,
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring --
  But not in the old way!


          III

All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree!
  Ere spring was going -- ah, spring is gone!
And there comes no summer to the like of you and me, --
  Blossom time is early, but no fruit sets on.

All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree,
  Browned at the edges, turned in a day;
And I would with all my heart they trimmed a mound for me,
  And weeds were tall on all the paths that led that way!