Vincent Millay
Vincent Millay
dream lying sleep
When we are old and these rejoicing veins Are frosty channels to a muted stream, And out of all our burning there remains No feeblest spark to fire us, even in dream, This be our solace: that it was not said When we were young and warm and in our prime, Upon our couch we lay as lie the dead, Sleeping away the unreturning time.
war thinking sides
We think-although of course, now, we very seldom Clearly think- That the other side of War is Peace.
done strange moments
Strange how few, After alls said and done, the things that are Of moment.
matter transport train
There isn't a train I wouldn't take, no matter where it's going.
brother may welcome
it may be said of me by Harper & Brothers, that although I reject their proposals, I welcome their advances.
thinking rude manners
Please don't think me negligent or rude. I am both, in effect, of course, but please don't think me either.
music principles relentless
I find that I never lose Bach. I don't know why I have always loved him so. Except that he is so pure, so relentless and incorruptible, like a principle of geometry.
ends candle
My candle burns at both ends
beer years skittles
Life isn't all beer and skittles; few of us have touched a skittle in years.
beautiful green golden
Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom golden in the green grass, this life can be.
heart air doors
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying, House without air, I leave you and lock your door. Wild swans, come over the town, come over The town again, trailing your legs and crying!
spring purpose return
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough.
dust long apollo
Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo; and the happier he
running singing bud
On and on eternally Shall your altered fluid run, Bud and bloom and go to seed; But your singing days are done