Oh, oh, you will certainly be sorry for that word!Give earlier my book and also take my kiss instead.Was it my foe or my friend ns heard,“What a large book because that such a little head!”Come, i will show you currently my newest hat,And you may watch me purse mine mouth and prink!Oh, ns shall love friend still, and all of that.I never ever again chandelier tell friend what ns think.I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;You will certainly not capture me reading any more:I chandelier be referred to as a wife to pattern by;And part day once you knock and push the door,Some sane day, not too bright and also not too stormy,I shall it is in gone, and also you might whistle for me.

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Edna St. Vincent Millay to be born in Rockland, Maine, ~ above February 22, 1892. A poet and playwright poetry collections incorporate The Ballad the the Harp-Weaver (Flying Cloud Press, 1922), winner that the Pulitzer Prize, and also Renascence and also Other Poems (Harper, 1917) She died on October 18, 1950, in Austerlitz, brand-new York.

She is no pink nor pale, and also she never will be all mine;She learned she hands in a fairy-tale, and also her mouth ~ above a valentine.She has an ext hair than she needs; In the sunlight "tis a woe to me!And her voice is a cable of colored beads, Or procedures leading into the sea.She loves me all the she can, and also her means to my methods resign; yet she was no made for any man, and she never ever will be all mine.

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"Curse thee, Life, I will certainly live v thee no more!Thou aside from that mocked me, starved me, win my human body sore!And all for a pledge the was no pledged through me,I have kissed your crust and eaten sparinglyThat I could eat again, and met thy sneersWith deprecations, and also thy blows with tears,—Aye, from her glutted lash, glad, crawled away,As if invested passion to be a holiday!And currently I go. Nor threat, nor simple vowOf tardy kindness deserve to avail thee nowWith me, whence fear and faith alike room flown;Lonely i came, and also I depart alone,And understand not whereby nor depend whom ns go;But that thou canst no follow me i know."Thus ns to Life, and ceased; however through my brainMy assumed ran still, till I spake again:"Ah, yet I go not as ns came,—no traceIs mine to bear away of the old graceI brought! I have actually been cook in her fires,Bent by your hands, fashioned come thy desires,Thy mark is top top me! i am not the sameNor ever much more shall be, as when I came.Ashes am i of all that once I seemed.In me all"s sunk that leapt, and all that dreamedIs wakeful because that alarm,—oh, shame to thee,For the ill readjust that you hast wrought in me,Who laugh no an ext nor lift my neck to singAh, Life, ns would have actually been a satisfied thingTo have about the home when i was grownIf she hadst left my little joys alone!I inquiry of thee no favor save this one:That thou wouldst leave me playing in the sun!And this she didst deny, calling my nameInsistently, till I rose and also came.I witnessed the sun no more.—It were no wellSo long on this unpleasant thoughts to dwell,Need ns arise to-morrow and renewAgain mine hated tasks, yet I am throughWith all things conserve my thoughts and this one night,So that in reality I seem already quiteFree,and far from thee,—I feel no hasteAnd no reluctance to depart; ns tasteMerely, with thoughtful mien, an unknown draught,That in a small while i shall have quaffed."Thus i to Life, and also ceased, and also slightly smiled,Looking in ~ nothing; and also my thin desires filedBefore me one through one till when againI set brand-new words depend an old refrain:"Treasures thou hast the never have actually been mine!Warm lamp in plenty of a secret chamber shineOf her gaunt house, and gusts that song have blownLike blossoms out to me that satellite alone!And I have waited well for thee come showIf any type of share to be mine,—and currently I goNothing i leave, and also if ns naught attainI shall however come into mine own again!"Thus ns to Life, and ceased, and also spake no more,But turning, straightway, search a certain doorIn the rear wall. Heavy it was, and lowAnd dark,—a means by which no one e"er would certainly goThat other exit had, and never knockWas heard thereat,—bearing a curious lockSome opportunity had displayed me fashioned faultily,Whereof Life hosted content the useless key,And good coarse hinges, thick and rough v rust,Whose sudden voice across a quiet must,I knew, be harsh and also horrible come hear,—A strange door, ugly favor a dwarf.—So nearI come I feeling upon mine feet the chillOf mountain wind creeping across the sill.So stood longtime, till end me at lastCame weariness, and all things other passedTo make it room; the still night drifted deepLike snow about me, and I longed because that sleep.But, suddenly, marking the morning hour,Bayed the deep-throated bell in ~ the tower!Startled, I elevated my head,—and v a shoutLaid hold upon the latch,—and was without.* * * *Ah, long-forgotten, well-remembered road, top me back unto my old abode, mine father"s house! over there in the night i came, and also found them feasting, and all points the exact same As they had been before. A splendour hung upon the walls, and such sweet songs to be sung As, echoing the end of an extremely long ago, Had dubbed me indigenous the residence of Life, ns know.So fair their raiment shone ns looked in shameOn the i do not know garb in which i came;Then straightway at my hesitancy mocked:"It is my father"s house!" i said and also knocked;And the door opened. Come the bright crowdTattered and dark ns entered, prefer a cloud,Seeing no face but his; come him ns crept,And "Father!" i cried, and also clasped his knees, and wept.* * * *Ah, work of pleasure that followed! every aloneI wandered v the house. Mine own, mine own,My own to touch, my own to taste and also smell,All I had actually lacked so long and loved for this reason well!None shook me out of sleep, no one hushed mine song,Nor called me in indigenous the sunshine all work long.I recognize not once the wonder concerned meOf what my father"s business might be,And whither fared and on what errands bentThe tall and gracious messengers the sent.Yet at some point with no track from dawn it spins nightWondering, ns sat, and also watched them out of sight.And the following day i called; and on the thirdAsked castle if I can go,—but no one heard.Then, sick with longing, I occurred at lastAnd went unto my father,—in that vastChamber within he because that so plenty of yearsHas sat, surrounded by his charts and also spheres."Father," i said, "Father, i cannot playThe harp that thou didst give me, and also all dayI sit in idleness, if to and also froAbout me her serene, dig servants go;And ns am weary of mine lonely ease.Better a perilous trip overseasAway native thee, than this, the life ns lead,To sit every day in the sunshine favor a weedThat grow to naught,—I love thee an ext than theyWho offer thee most; yet serve thee in no way.Father, i beg that thee a small taskTo dignify my days,—"tis all ns askForever, however forever, this denied,I perish." "Child," mine father"s voice replied,"All things thy sophisticated hath wanted of meThou hast received. I have prepared for theeWithin my residence a spacious chamber, whereAre delicate things to handle and to wear,And every these things space thine. Dost thou love song?My minstrels shall to visit thee all day long.Or sigh because that flowers? mine fairest gardens standOpen as fields to thee top top every hand.And all thy job this native shall hold the same:No satisfied shalt thou lack that thou shalt name.But as for tasks—" the smiled, and also shook his head;"Thou hadst her task, and also laidst the by," that said.