No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew

Edna St. Vincent Millay

No rose that in a garden ever grew,
In Homer’s or in Omar’s or in mine,
Though buried under centuries of fine
Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew
Forever, and forever lost from view,
But must again in fragrance rich as wine
The grey aisles of the air incarnadine
When the old summers surge into a new.
Thus when I swear, “I love with all my heart,”
’Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear,
’Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;
And thus as well my love must lose some part
Of what it is, had Helen been less fair,
Or perished young, or stayed at home in Greece.

Next 10 Poems

• 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
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Once More Into My Arid Days Like Dew
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Only Until This Cigarette Is Ended
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Passer Mortuus Est
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Pastoral
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Portrait By A Neighbor
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Prayer To Persephone

Previous 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Mindful Of You The Sodden Earth In Spring
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Midnight Oil
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Memorial To D. C.
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Mariposa
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Macdougal Street
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Low-tide
• 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