Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

How Healthily Their Feet

How healthily their feet upon the floor
Strike down! These are no spirits, but a band
Of children, surely, leaping hand in hand,
Into the air in groups of three and four,
Wearing their silken rags as if they wore
Leaves only and light grasses, or a strand
Of black elusive seaweed oozing sand,
And running hard as if along a shore.
I know how lost forever, and at length
How still these lovely tossing limbs shall lie,
And the bright laughter and the panting breath;
And yet, before such beauty and such strength,
Once more, as always when the dance is high,
I am rebuked that I believe in death.

1. The Last White Sawdust
2. I, Being Born a Woman
3. Euclid Alone Has Looked
4. So She Came Back
5. She Filled Her Arms with Wood

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