Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Afternoon on a Hill

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down! 

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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