To The Not Impossible Him

Edna St. Vincent Millay

How shall I know, unless I go
  To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
  Is blest in every way?

Now it may be, the flower for me
  Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
  The Carthaginian rose?

The fabric of my faithful love
  No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here,—but oh, my dear
  If I should ever travel!

Next 10 Poems

• 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
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Wild Swans
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Witch-wife
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Wraith
• Joaquin Miller : At The Grave Of Walker
• Joaquin Miller : By The Pacific Ocean

Previous 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To S. M.
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To Kathleen
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To A Poet That Died Young
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Time Does Not Bring Relief; You All Have Lied
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Thursday
• 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