Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Nuit Blanche

I am a shepherd of those sheep
   That climb a wall by night,
One after one, until I sleep,
   Or the black pane goes white.
Because of which I cannot see
   A flock upon a hill,
But doubts come tittering up to me
   That should by day be still.
And childish griefs I have outgrown
   Into my eyes are thrust,
Till my dull tears go dropping down
   Like lead into the dust.

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

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