Thursday

Edna St. Vincent Millay

And if I loved you Wednesday,
  Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday—
  So much is true.

And why you come complaining
  Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,—yes—but what
  Is that to me?

Next 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Time Does Not Bring Relief; You All Have Lied
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To A Poet That Died Young
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To Kathleen
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To S. M.
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To The Not Impossible Him
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Travel
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : We Talk Of Taxes, And I Call You Friend
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Weeds
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : When The Year Grows Old

Previous 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Three Songs Of Shattering
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Thou Art Not Lovelier Than Lilacs,-no
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Unexplorer
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Suicide
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Singing-woman From The Wood's Edge
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Shroud
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Prisoner
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Poet And His Book
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Philosopher
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Penitent