Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Witch-Wife

She is neither pink nor pale,
        And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
        And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
        In the sun ’tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
        Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can, 
        And her ways to my ways resign; 
But she was not made for any man, 
        And she never will be all mine.

1. Grown-up
2. My Most Distinguished Guest And Learned Friend
3. Assault
4. Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart
5. Night Is My Sister, And How Deep In Love

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