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Millay's first three books of lyrics and sonnets are collected here: Renascence, Second April, and A Few Figs from Thistles. With a balanced and appreciative introduction and useful annotations, this volume presents some of the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet's best work in which she weaves intellect, emotion, and irony.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
A Few Figs from Thistles
First Fig
Second Fig
Recuerdo
Thursday
To the Not Impossible Him
Macdougal Street
The Singing-Woman from the Wood's Edge
She Is Overheard Singing
The Prisoner
The Unexplorer
Grown-up
The Penitent
Daphne
Portrait by a Neighbour
Midnight Oil
The Merry Maid
To Kathleen
To S. M.
The Philosopher
I do but ask that you be always fair
Love, though for this you riddle me with darts
I think I should have loved you presently
Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow
I shall forget you presently, my dear
Second April
Spring
City Trees
The Blue-Flag in the Bog
Journey
Eel-Grass
Elegy Before Death
The Bean-Stalk
Weeds
Passer Mortuus Est
Pastoral
Assault
Travel
Low-Tide
Song of a Second April
Rosemary
The Poet and His Book
Alms
Inland
To a Poet that Died Young
Wraith
Ebb
Elaine
Burial
Mariposa
The Little Hill
Doubt No More That Oberon
Lament
Exiled
The Death of Autumn
Ode to Silence
Memorial to D. C.
Wild Swans
We talk of taxes, and I call you friend
Into the golden vessel of great song
Not with libations, but with shouts and laughter
Only until this cigarette is ended
Once more into my arid days like dew
No rose that in a garden ever grew
When I too long have looked upon your face
And you as well must die, beloved dust
Let you not say of me when I am old
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this
As to some lovely temple, tenantless
Cherish you then the hope I shall forget
Explanatory Notes
Index of Titles and First Lines
Millay's first three books of lyrics and sonnets are collected here: Renascence, Second April, and A Few Figs from Thistles. With a balanced and appreciative introduction and useful annotations, this volume presents some of the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet's best work in which she weaves intellect, emotion, and irony.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
A Few Figs from Thistles
First Fig
Second Fig
Recuerdo
Thursday
To the Not Impossible Him
Macdougal Street
The Singing-Woman from the Wood's Edge
She Is Overheard Singing
The Prisoner
The Unexplorer
Grown-up
The Penitent
Daphne
Portrait by a Neighbour
Midnight Oil
The Merry Maid
To Kathleen
To S. M.
The Philosopher
I do but ask that you be always fair
Love, though for this you riddle me with darts
I think I should have loved you presently
Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow
I shall forget you presently, my dear
Second April
Spring
City Trees
The Blue-Flag in the Bog
Journey
Eel-Grass
Elegy Before Death
The Bean-Stalk
Weeds
Passer Mortuus Est
Pastoral
Assault
Travel
Low-Tide
Song of a Second April
Rosemary
The Poet and His Book
Alms
Inland
To a Poet that Died Young
Wraith
Ebb
Elaine
Burial
Mariposa
The Little Hill
Doubt No More That Oberon
Lament
Exiled
The Death of Autumn
Ode to Silence
Memorial to D. C.
Wild Swans
We talk of taxes, and I call you friend
Into the golden vessel of great song
Not with libations, but with shouts and laughter
Only until this cigarette is ended
Once more into my arid days like dew
No rose that in a garden ever grew
When I too long have looked upon your face
And you as well must die, beloved dust
Let you not say of me when I am old
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this
As to some lovely temple, tenantless
Cherish you then the hope I shall forget
Explanatory Notes
Index of Titles and First Lines
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