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#edna st. vincent millay
apocryphics · 12 hours
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metamorphesque · 8 months
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a you-shaped hole in the universe Celia Paul, Ocean Vuong, Owen Gent, Alejandra Pizarnik (trans. Yvette Siegert), Karman Verdi, Edna St Vincent Millay
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strykerlancer · 18 days
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— Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter to Arthur Davison Ficke featured in Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay.
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mournfulroses · 17 days
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter featured in The Letters of Edna St. Vincent Millay
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shisasan · 6 months
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Kathleen Kalloch Millay Young, Witch [1896-1943]
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petaltexturedskies · 7 months
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, from the lamp and the bell, published c. 1921
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rosepompadour · 6 months
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I wish you would have been the one to kiss me first — but now I only wish that you might kiss me soon, and again, and last.
Edna St. Vincent Millay in her diary entry for January 10, 1913
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oldwinesoul · 1 year
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“𝐴𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠.”
—Edna St. Vincent Millay, Song Of A Second April in “Collected Poems Of Edna St. Vincent Millay”
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"Some long-forgot, enchanted, strange, Sweet garden of a thousand years ago,"
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay, from "Interim"
via southerncrossreview.org
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thefugitivesaint · 15 days
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Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950), 'Spring', ''Second April & Other Poems'', 1921 Source
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apoemaday · 2 months
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Three Songs of Shattering
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I. The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of grief has drained me clean; Still it seems a pity No one saw, — it must have been Very pretty.
II. Let the little birds sing; Let the little lambs play; Spring is here; and so ’tis spring; — But not in the old way! I recall a place Where a plum-tree grew; There you lifted up your face, And blossoms covered you. If the little birds sing, And the little lambs play, Spring is here; and so ’tis spring — But not in the old way!
III. All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree! Ere spring was going — ah, spring is gone! And there comes no summer to the like of you and me, — Blossom time is early, but no fruit sets on. All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree, Browned at the edges, turned in a day; And I would with all my heart they trimmed a mound for me, And weeds were tall on all the paths that led that way!
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seraphinesaintclair · 2 months
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Witch-Wife”
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metamorphesque · 8 months
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Love is Not All (Sonnet XXX)"
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derangedrhythms · 7 months
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, Fatal Interview: from 'Now by this moon, before this moon shall wane...'
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shisasan · 3 months
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Kathleen Millay
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petaltexturedskies · 1 month
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, from Collected Poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay; "Moriturus"
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