Low-tide

Edna St. Vincent Millay

These wet rocks where the tide has been,
  Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
  These wet rocks where the tide went down
Will show again when the tide is high
  Faint and perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,—
  The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
  A giant’s empty house all day,—
House full of wonderful things and new,
  But no fit place for a child to play.

Next 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Macdougal Street
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Mariposa
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Memorial To D. C.
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Midnight Oil
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Mindful Of You The Sodden Earth In Spring
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Not In This Chamber Only At My Birth
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Not With Libations, But With Shouts And Laughter
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Ode To Silence
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Oh, My Beloved, Have You Thought Of This

Previous 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Let You Not Say Of Me When I Am Old
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Lament
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Kin To Sorrow
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Journey
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Into The Golden Vessel Of Great Song
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Interim
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Inland
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Indifference
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : If I Should Learn, In Some Quite Casual Way
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Grown-up