Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Eel-Grass

No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie and bleach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.

1. I See So Clearly Now My Similar Years
2. Lord Archer, Death
3. Still Will I Harvest Beauty
4. From the Wan Dream
5. Loving You Less Than Life

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