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Edna St. Vincent Millay

You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that. —  in a letter to her mother as to why she must live alone. Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay by Nancy Milford. (Random House Trade Paperbacks; Reprint edition September 10, 2002)

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Feminism · Glbt · Modernism · Poetry

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain       Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain, — Dawn will find them still again; This has neither wax nor wane,       Neither stop nor start. People dress and go to town;       I sit in my chair. All my thoughts are slow and brown: Standing up… Continue reading Edna St. Vincent Millay

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Excerpt · Feminism · Glbt · Modernism · Passage · Poetry

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: I cannot say what loves have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more. — Edna St. Vincent… Continue reading Edna St. Vincent Millay

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