I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of Spring.
Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Else will you seek, at some not distant time,
Even your summer in another clime.
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
(Painting "Echo and Narcissus" by William Waterhouse)
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6 comments:
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.
That's beautiful, sc. Thanks!
+JMJ+
I find all of Edna St. Vincent Millay's poems beautiful; but when I relate it to what I know of her personal life, I feel a bit sad. :(
Really, that is so true. I feel the same way.
The credit accrues to Ms. Millay.
I thought as much.
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