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1 " Love, though for this you riddle me with darts,And drag me at your chariot till I die,—Oh, heavy prince! O, panderer of hearts!—Yet hear me tell how in their throats they lieWho shout you mighty: thick about my hair,Day in, day out, your ominous arrows purr,Who still am free, unto no querulous careA fool, and in no temple worshiper!I, that have bared me to your quiver’s fire,Lifted my face into its puny rain,Do wreathe you Impotent to Evoke DesireAs you are Powerless to Elicit Pain!(Now will the god, for blasphemy so brave,Punish me, surely, with the shaft I crave!) "
― Edna St. Vincent Millay , Collected Sonnets
2 " As to some lovely temple, tenantlessLong since, that once was sweet with shivering brass,Knowing well its altars ruined and the grassGrown up between the stones, yet from excessOf grief hard driven, or great loneliness,The worshiper returns, and those who passMarvel him crying on a name that was,—So is it now with me in my distress.Your body was a temple to Delight;Cold are its ashes whence the breath is fled;Yet here one time your spirit was wont to move;Here might I hope to find you day or night;And here I come to look for you, my love,Even now, foolishly, knowing you are dead. "
3 " I shall go back again to the bleak shoreAnd build a little shanty on the sand,In such a way that the extremest bandOf brittle seaweed will escape my doorBut by a yard or two; and nevermoreShall I return to take you by the hand;I shall be gone to what I understand,And happier than I ever was before.The love that stood a moment in your eyes,The words that lay a moment on your tongue,Are one with all that in a moment dies,A little under-said and over-sung.But I shall find the sullen rocks and skiesUnchanged from what they were when I was young. "
4 " Sweeter was loss than silver coins to spend,Sweeter was famine than the belly filled;Better than blood in the vein was the blood spilled;Better than corn and healthy flocks to tendAnd a tight roof and acres without endWas the barn burned and the mild creatures killed,And the back aging fast, and all to build:For then it was, his neighbour was his friend.Then for a moment the averted eyeWas turned upon him with benignant beam,Defiance faltered, and derision slept;He saw as in a not unhappy dreamThe kindly heads against the horrid sky,And scowled, and cleared his throat and spat, and wept. "
5 " I shall be gone to what I understand,And happier than I ever was before. The love that stood a moment in your eyes,The words that lay a moment on your tongue,Are one with all that in a moment dies, A little under-said and over-sung.But I shall find the sullen rocks and skiesUnchanged from what they were when I was young.— Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Sonnet XIX," Collected Sonnets. (Harper Perennial; Revised, Expanded ed. edition April 13, 1988) Originally published 1917. "
