Renascence and Other Poems E-Book

Edna St. Vincent Millay

• Herausgeber: libreka classics
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 34

Beschreibung

Renascence and Other Poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay libreka classics – These are classics of literary history, reissued and made available to a wide audience. Immerse yourself in well-known and popular titles!

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Titel: Renascence and Other Poems

von Scott Hemphill, L. M. Montgomery, L. Frank Baum, John Milton, René Descartes, Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy, Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Unknown, Norman F. Joly, Norman Coombs, David Slowinski, Mark Twain, Henry David Thoreau, Stephen Crane, John Goodwin, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Winn Schwartau, Odd De Presno, Sir Walter Scott, Jules Verne, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, United States. Central Intelligence Agency, United States, Canada, Willa Sibert Cather, Anthony Hope, Edwin Abbott Abbott, Charles Dickens, Frederick Douglass, William Shakespeare, Bruce Sterling, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Edna St. Vincent Millay

ISBN 978-3-7429-0105-7

Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Renascence and Other Poems

by

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Contents:

RenascenceAll I could see from where I stood

InterimThe room is full of you!—As I came in

The Suicide"Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more!

God's WorldO world, I cannot hold thee close enough!

Afternoon on a HillI will be the gladdest thing

SorrowSorrow like a ceaseless rain

TavernI'll keep a little tavern

Ashes of LifeLove has gone and left me and the days are all alike;

The Little GhostI knew her for a little ghost

Kin to SorrowAm I kin to Sorrow,

Three Songs of Shattering

IThe first rose on my rose-tree

IILet the little birds sing;

IIIAll the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree!

The ShroudDeath, I say, my heart is bowed

The DreamLove, if I weep it will not matter,

IndifferenceI said,—for Love was laggard, O, Love was slow to come,—

Witch-WifeShe is neither pink nor pale,

BlightHard seeds of hate I planted

When the Year Grows OldI cannot but remember

Sonnets

IThou art not lovelier than lilacs,—no,

IITime does not bring relief; you all have lied

IIIMindful of you the sodden earth in spring,

IVNot in this chamber only at my birth—

VIf I should learn, in some quite casual way,

VI       BluebeardThis door you might not open, and you did;

Renascence and Other Poems

Renascence

All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line Of the horizon, thin and fine, Straight around till I was come Back to where I'd started from; And all I saw from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood. Over these things I could not see; These were the things that bounded me; And I could touch them with my hand, Almost, I thought, from where I stand. And all at once things seemed so small My breath came short, and scarce at all. But, sure, the sky is big, I said; Miles and miles above my head; So here upon my back I'll lie And look my fill into the sky. And so I looked, and, after all, The sky was not so very tall. The sky, I said, must somewhere stop, And—sure enough!—I see the top! The sky, I thought, is not so grand; I 'most could touch it with my hand! And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky. I screamed, and—lo!—Infinity Came down and settled over me; Forced back my scream into my chest, Bent back my arm upon my breast, And, pressing of the Undefined The definition on my mind, Held up before my eyes a glass Through which my shrinking sight did pass Until it seemed I must behold Immensity made manifold; Whispered to me a word whose sound Deafened the air for worlds around, And brought unmuffled to my ears The gossiping of friendly spheres, The creaking of the tented sky, The ticking of Eternity. I saw and heard, and knew at last The How and Why of all things, past, And present, and forevermore. The Universe, cleft to the core, Lay open to my probing sense That, sick'ning, I would fain pluck thence But could not,—nay! But needs must suck At the great wound, and could not pluck My lips away till I had drawn All venom out.—Ah, fearful pawn! For my omniscience paid I toll