Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Feast

I drank at every vine.
   The last was like the first.
I came upon no wine
   So wonderful as thirst.

I gnawed at every root.
   I ate of every plant.
I came upon no fruit
   So wonderful as want.

Feed the grape and bean
   To the vintner and monger;
I will lie down lean
   With my thirst and my hunger.

1. Sometimes When I Am Wearied
2. When You, That at This Moment
3. I See So Clearly Now My Similar Years
4. Lord Archer, Death
5. She Filled Her Arms with Wood

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