by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Heaven bless the babe!"they said.
"What queer books she must have read!"
(Love, by whom I was be guiled,
Grant I may not bear a child.)
"Little does she guess to-day
What the world maybe!" they say.
(Snow, drift deep and cover
Till the spring my murdered lover.)

Last updated January 14, 2019