Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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My most Distinguished Guest and Learned Friend,
The pallid hare that runs before the day
Having brought your earnest counsels to an end
Now have I somewhat of my own to say:
That it is folly to be sunk in love,
And madness plain to make the matter known,
There are no mysteries you are verger of;
Everyman’s wisdoms these are, and my own.
If I have flung my heart unto a hound
I have done ill, it is a certain thing;
Yet breathe I freer, walk I the more sound
On my sick bones for this brave reasoning?
Soon must I say, ” ’Tis prowling Death I hear!”
Yet come no better off, for my quick ear.

1. Grown-up
2. Assault
3. Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart
4. Night Is My Sister, And How Deep In Love
5. Sonnets 05: Once More Into My Arid Days Like Dew

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