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Edna St. Vincent Millay - Three Songs Of Shattering


The first rose on my rose-tree
   Budded, bloomed, and shattered,
During sad days when to me
          Nothing mattered.

Grief of grief has drained me clean;
   Still it seems a pity
No one saw,—it must have been
          Very pretty.


Let the little birds sing;
   Let the little lambs play;
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring;—
   But not in the old way!

I recall a place
   Where a plum-tree grew;
There you lifted up your face,
   And blossoms covered you.

If the little birds sing,
   And the little lambs play,
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring—
   But not in the old way!


All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree!
   Ere spring was going—ah, spring is gone!
And there comes no summer to the like of you and me,—
   Blossom time is early, but no fruit sets on.

All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree,
   Browned at the edges, turned in a day;
And I would with all my heart they trimmed a mound for me,
   And weeds were tall on all the paths that led that way!

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Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 4164 times | Comments and analysis of Three Songs Of Shattering by Edna St. Vincent Millay Comments (0)

Three Songs Of Shattering - Comments and Information

Poet: Edna St. Vincent Millay
Poem: Three Songs Of Shattering
Volume: Renascence and Other Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1917
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