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Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay


Low-Tide


These wet rocks where the tide has been,
Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
These wet rocks where the tide went down
Will show again when the tide is high
Faint and perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,Ч
The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
A giantТs empty house all day,Ч
House full of wonderful things and new,
But no fit place for a child to play.



Edna St. Vincent Millay


Edna St. Vincent Millay's other poems:
  1. The Return from Town
  2. To S. M.
  3. When the Year Grows Old
  4. Second Fig
  5. Journey


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