Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

* * *

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she’d left to me
The thing she took into the grave!—
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.

1. There Was upon the Sill
2. Gazing upon Him Now
3. She Had a Horror
4. The Doctor Asked Her
5. So She Came Back

Print

1922 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version