What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply.
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands a lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet know its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay
'I only know that summer sang in me
ReplyDeleteA little while, that in me sings no more.'
that was beautiful. thanks a bunch for posting it. y'know, i'm not super familiar with dear old eds, but am anxious to check out some of her work.
What are you, some kind of commie-pinko-islamofacist?
ReplyDeleteI bet you don't even got no yellow ribbon on yer pick up!
Dear Ms. Henri, I'm certainly glad you enjoyed it. I'm not very familiar with Ms. Eds either but I loved that poem; it said quite a lot, I think. Planning on picking up some of her poetry (and possibly her biography cuz I hear she was one crazy mama!).
ReplyDeleteDear Pax, I think you commented on the wrong blog, silly. This is the lace-curtained vulnerable poetic one with its heart on its sleeve-- the commie pinko islamofacist one is the one above. Grin grin.
But yes, for my next magical trick ah believe -- ah say I do believe -- that I'll do a bunch of quotes on religion. That oughta raise some hackles, huh???