I drank at every vine.
The last was like the first.
I came upon no wine
So wonderful as thirst.

I gnawed at every root.
I ate of every plant.
I came upon no fruit
So wonderful as want.

Feed the grape and bean
To the vintner and monger:
I will lie down lean
With my thirst and my hunger.

Added: on September 1st, 2005 at 6:03 PM | Viewed: 2742 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Edna St. Vincent Millay
Poem: Feast
Poem of the Day: Jul 7 2006

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