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Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay She Had a Horror She had a horror he would die at night. And sometimes when the light began to fade She could not keep from noticing how white The birches looked--and then she would be afraid, Even with a lamp, to go about the house And lock the windows; and as night wore on Toward morning, if a dog howled, or a mouse Squeaked in the floor, long after it was gone Her flesh would sit awry on her. By day She would forget somewhat, and it would seem A silly thing to go with just this dream And get a neighbor to come at night and stay. But it would strike her sometimes, making the tea: She had kept that kettle boiling all night long, for company. Edna St. Vincent Millay Edna St. Vincent Millay's other poems:
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