Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

* * *

Women have loved before as I love now;
At least, in lively chronicles of the past—
Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow
Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast
Much to their cost invaded—here and there,
Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest,
I find some woman bearing as I bear
Love like a burning city in the breast.
I think however that of all alive
I only in such utter, ancient way
Do suffer love; in me alone survive
The unregenerate passions of a day
When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread,
Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed.

1. I See So Clearly Now My Similar Years
2. Still Will I Harvest Beauty
3. From the Wan Dream
4. She Filled Her Arms with Wood
5. The Wagon Stopped before the House

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