How can anyone pick just one Millay sonnet? By a process of jabbing my finger randomly at a list I present:
Admetus, From My Marrow's Core
Edna St Vincent Millay
Admetus, from my marrow's core I do
Despise you: wherefrom pity not your wife,
Who, having seen expire her love for you
With heaviest grief, today gives up her life.
You could not with your mind imagine this:
One might surrender, yet continue proud.
Not having loved, you do not know: the kiss
You sadly beg, is impious, not allowed.
Of all I loved, - how many girls and men
Have loved me in return? – speak! – young or old –
Speak! – sleek or famished, can you find me then
One form would flank me, as this night grows cold?
I am at peace, Admetus – go and slake
Your grief with wine. I die for my own sake.
Showing the power of poetry, I read the other day an entire essay on the virtues of Admetus (Anne Pippin Burnett on Euripides' Alcestis) and it quite failed to overwhelm the memory of a 14 line poem; I remain convinced at heart this is the One True Interpretation of the story.
And, because I am going to cheat about picking just one, a cut tag. Herewith the sonnet as love lyric (thought Millay's are never uncomplicatedly that and nothing more):
No Rose That In A Garden
Edna St Vincent Millay
No rose that in a garden ever grew,
In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine,
Though buried under centuries of fine
Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew
Forever, and forever lost from view,
But must again in fragrance rich as wine
The grey aisles of the air incarnadine
When the old summers surge into a new.
Thus when I swear, "I love with all my heart,"
'Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear,
'Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;
And thus as well my love must lose some part
Of what it is, had Helen been less fair,
Or perished young, or stayed at home in Greece.
Admetus, From My Marrow's Core
Edna St Vincent Millay
Admetus, from my marrow's core I do
Despise you: wherefrom pity not your wife,
Who, having seen expire her love for you
With heaviest grief, today gives up her life.
You could not with your mind imagine this:
One might surrender, yet continue proud.
Not having loved, you do not know: the kiss
You sadly beg, is impious, not allowed.
Of all I loved, - how many girls and men
Have loved me in return? – speak! – young or old –
Speak! – sleek or famished, can you find me then
One form would flank me, as this night grows cold?
I am at peace, Admetus – go and slake
Your grief with wine. I die for my own sake.
Showing the power of poetry, I read the other day an entire essay on the virtues of Admetus (Anne Pippin Burnett on Euripides' Alcestis) and it quite failed to overwhelm the memory of a 14 line poem; I remain convinced at heart this is the One True Interpretation of the story.
And, because I am going to cheat about picking just one, a cut tag. Herewith the sonnet as love lyric (thought Millay's are never uncomplicatedly that and nothing more):
No Rose That In A Garden
Edna St Vincent Millay
No rose that in a garden ever grew,
In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine,
Though buried under centuries of fine
Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew
Forever, and forever lost from view,
But must again in fragrance rich as wine
The grey aisles of the air incarnadine
When the old summers surge into a new.
Thus when I swear, "I love with all my heart,"
'Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear,
'Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;
And thus as well my love must lose some part
Of what it is, had Helen been less fair,
Or perished young, or stayed at home in Greece.
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