 Poem 1 of Renaissance and Other Poems This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and Other Poems by Edna St. Vincent Malay Renaissance All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood I turned and looked another way And saw three islands in a bay So with my eyes I traced the line Of the horizon, thin and fine Straight around till I was calm Back to where I'd started from And all I saw from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood Over these things I could not see These were the things that bounded me And I could touch them with my hand Almost I thought from where I stand And all at once things seemed so small My breath came short and scarce at all But sure the sky's big I said Miles and miles above my head So here upon my back I'll lie And look my fill into the sky And so I looked and after all The sky was not so very tall The sky I said must somewhere stop And sure enough I see the top The sky I thought is not so grand I most could touch it with my hand And reaching up my hand to try I screamed to feel it touch the sky I screamed and lo infinity came down And settled over me Forced back my scream into my chest Bent back my arm upon my breast And pressing of the undefined The definition on my mind Held up before my eyes a glass Through which my shrinking sigh did pass Until it seemed I must behold The immensity made manifold Whispered to me a word who's sound Deafened the air for worlds around And brought un-muffled to my ears The gossiping friendly spheres The creaking of the tinted sky The ticking I saw and heard and knew at last The how and why of all things Past and present and forevermore The universe cleft to the core Lay open to my probing sense That, sickening, I would feign pluck thence But could not Nay, but needs must suck Had the great wound and could not pluck my lips away Till I had drawn all venom out Ah, fearful pawn For my omniscience paid I toll In infinite remorse of soul All sin was of my sinning All atoning mine And mine the gall of all regret Mine was the weight of every brooded wrong The hate that stood behind each envious thrust Mine every greed Mine every lust And all the while for every grief Each suffering I craved relief with individual desire Craved all in vain And felt fierce fire about a thousand people crawl Perished with each Then mourned for all A man was starving in Capri He moved his eyes and looked at me I felt his gaze I heard his moan And knew his hunger as my own I saw at sea a great fog bank Between two ships that struck and sank A thousand screams the heavens smoked And every scream tore through my throat No hurt I did not feel No death that was not mine Mine each last breath that Cry met an answering cry From the compassion that was I All suffering mine and mine its rot Mine pity like the pity of God Aw awful weight Infinity pressed down upon the finite me My anguished spirit like a bird Beating against my lips I heard Yet lay the weight so close about There was no room for it without And so beneath the weight lay I And suffered death But could not die Long had I lain thus Craving death When quietly the earth beneath gave way And inch by inch So great at last had grown the crushing weight Into the earth I sank till I Full six feet underground did lie And sank no more There is no weight can follow here However great From off my breast I felt it roll And as it wet my tortured soul Burst forth and fled in such a gust That all about me swirled the dust Deep in the earth I rested now Cool as its hand upon the brow And soft its breast beneath the head Of one who was so gladly dead And all at once and over all The pitying rain began to fall I lay and heard each pattering hoof Upon my lowly facet roof And seemed to love the sound far more Than ever I had done before For rain had hath a friendly sound To one who six feet underground And scarce the friendly voice or face A grave is such a quiet place The rain I said is kind to come And speak to me in my new home I would I were alive again To kiss the fingers of the rain To drink into my eyes a shine Of every slanting silver line To catch the fresh and fragrant breeze From drenched in dripping apple trees For soon the shower will be done And then the broad face of the sun Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth Until the world with answering mirth Shakes joyously And each round drop Rolls twinkling from its grass-blade top How can I bear it buried here While overhead the sky grows clear And blue again after the storm A multi-colored, multi-form Beloved beauty over me That I shall never, never see again Spring-silver-autumn-gold That I shall never more behold Sleeping your myriad magics through Clothes the polkered away from you Oh God, I cried, give me new birth And put me back upon the earth Upset each cloud's gigantic gourd And let the heavy rain down-poured In one big torrent set me free Washing my grave away from me I ceased and threw the breathless Hush that answered me The far-off brush of herald wings Came whispering like music down the vibrant strings Of my ascending prayer And before the wild winds whistling lash The startled storm clouds reared on high And plunged in terror down the sky And the big rain in one black wave Fell from the sky and struck my grave I know not how such things can be I only know there came to me A fragrance such as never clings To ought-save happy living things A sound as of some joyous elf Singing sweet songs to please himself And through and over everything A sense of glad awakening The grass, a tip-toe at my ear Whispering to me I could hear I felt the rain's cool fingertips Brushed tenderly across my lips Layed gently on my sealant side And all at once the heavy night Fell from my eyes and I could see A drenched in dripping apple-tree A last long line of silver rain A sky grown clear and blue again And as I looked, a quickening gust The wind blew up to me And thrust into my face A miracle of orchard breath And with a smile I know not how such things can be I breathed my soul back into me Ah, up then from the ground sprang I And hailed the earth with such a cry As is not heard say from a man Who has been dead and lives again About the trees my arms I wound Like one gone mad I hugged the ground I raised my quivering arms unhigh I laughed and laughed into the sky Till at my throat a strangling sob Caught fiercely On a great heartthrob Sent instant tears into my eyes Oh, God, I cried No dark disguise can error hereafter hide from me Thy radiant identity Thou canst not move across the grass But my quick eyes will see the paths Nor speak, however silently But my hushed voice will answer thee I know the path that tells thy way Through the cool eve of every day God, I can push the grass apart And lay my finger on thy heart The world stands out on either side No wider than the heart is wide Above the world is stretched the sky No higher than the soul is high The heart can push the sea and land Farther away on either hand The soul can split the sky in two And let the face of God shine through But east and west will pinch the heart That cannot keep them pushed apart And he who's soul is flat The sky will cave in on him By and by End of poem one Poem two Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Interim A room is full of you As I came in and closed the door behind me All at once A something in the air Intangible Yet stiff with meaning Struck my senses sick Sharp unfamiliar odors Have destroyed each other's rooms Dear personality The heavy scent of damp venereal flowers The very essence hushed the stilt of death Has strangled that habitual breath of home Whose expiration leaves all houses dead And where so where I look as hideous change Save here Here It was if a weed choked gate had opened And I had stepped into some long forgot Enchanted Strange Sweet garden of a thousand years ago And suddenly thought I have been here before You are not here I know that you are gone I will not ever enter here again And yet it seems to me If I should speak Your silent step must wake across the hall If I should turn my head That your sweet eyes would kiss me from the door So short a time to teach my life Its transposition to this difficult Anomic custom key The room is as you left it Your last touch As pressure Knowing not itself as saintly Hallows now each simple things And glorifies And glows between the dusts, grey fingers Like a shield applied There is your book Just as you laid it down Faced to the table I cannot believe that you are gone Just then it seemed to me I almost laughed to think How like reality The dream had been Yet knew before I laughed And so was still That book Outspread just as you laid it down Perhaps you thought I wonder what comes next And whether this Or this will be the end So rose and left it Thinking to return Perhaps that chair When you arose And passed out of the room Rocked silently a while Air it again was still When you were gone forever from the room Perhaps that chair Stirred by your movement Rocked a little while Silently to and fro Are the last words your fingers wrote Scrawled in broad characters Across a page in this brown book I gave you Here your hand Guiding your rapid pen Moved up and down Here with a looping knot You crossed a tee And here another like it Just beyond these two eccentric ease You were so small And wrote so brave How strange it seems out of all words These are the words you chose And yet a simple choice You did not know you would not write again If you had known But then it does not matter And indeed If you had known there was so little time You would have dropped your pen And come to me And this page would be empty And some praise other than this Would hold my wonder now Yet Since you could not know And it befell that these are the last words Your fingers wrote There is a dignity some might not see in this I picked the first sweet pea today Was there an opening bud beside it You left until tomorrow All my love All the things that withered And you came not back That day you filled the circle of my arms That now is all my empty life That day That day you picked the first sweet pea And brought it into shape I recall with terrible distinctness How the smell of your cool gardens Drifted in with you You held it up for me to see And flushed because I looked not At your flower But at your face And when behind my look You saw such unmistakable intent You laughed and brushed your flower Against my lips You were the fairest thing God ever made I think And then your hands above my heart Drew down its stem into a fastening And while your head was bent I kissed your hair I wonder if you knew The loved hands Somehow I cannot seem to see them still Somehow I cannot seem to see the dust In your bright hair What is the need of heaven When earth can be so sweet If only God had let us love And show the world away Strange cancelings Must ink the eternal books When love crossed out Will bring the answer right That first sweet pea I wonder where it is It seems to me I laid it down somewhere And yet I am not sure I am not sure Even if it was white or pink For then it was much like any other flower to me Save that it was the first I did not know that if I had known But then it does not matter Strange how few after all said and done The things that are of moment Few indeed When I can make of ten small words A rope to hang the world at you And I am as the little juice I can when it slacks So the bulls tighten to a thought Here, let me write it down I wish to see just how a thing like that Will look on paper, and you And I have you now no more How can you run so straight across the page Beneath the weight you bear How can you fall apart When such a theme has bound together And here after aid and trivial expression That I have been so hideously dignified Would God that tearing you apart Would tear the thread I strung you on Would God, oh God My mind stretches asunder On this merciless rack of imagery Oh, let me sleep a while Would I could sleep And wake to find me back In that sweet summer afternoon with you Summer Does summer still by the calendar How easily could God, if he so willed Set back the world a little turn or two Correct its griefs And bring its joys again We were so holy one I had not thought that we could die apart I had not thought that I could move And you'd be stiff and still But I could speak And you'd perforce be dumb I think our heartstrings were Like warp and wolf And some firm fabric Wolven in and out Your golden filaments and fair design Across my duller fiber And today the shining strip is rent Exquisite fine pattern is destroyed Part of your heart aches in my breast Part of my heart Lies chilled in the damp earth with you I have been torn in two And suffer for the rest of me What is my life to me And what am I to life A ship whose star has guttered out A fear that in the deep night starts awake perpetually To find its senses strained against the taut strings of the quivering air Waiting the return of some dread core Dark Dark Is all I find for metaphor All else were contrast Save that contrast wall is down And all opposed things flow together into a vast monotony Where night and day And frost and thaw And death and life are synonyms What now What now to me are all the jabbering birds And foolish flowers that clutter up the world You are my song Now let discord scream You are my flower Now let the world grow weeds For I shall not plant things above your grave The common balm of the conventional woe for its own wound A mid-sensations rendered negative by your elimination The elimination stands today Certain unmixed The element of grief I sorrow And I shall not mock my truth with travesties of suffering Nor seek to effigy its incorporeal bulk And little rye-faced images of woe I cannot call you back And I desire no utterance of my immaterial voice I cannot even turn my face this way or that and say My face is turned to you I know not where you are I do not know if heaven holds you Or if earth transmutes body and soul You into earth again But this I know Not for one second space shall I insult my sight With visioning such as a credulous crowd So eager I behold self-conjured in the empty air Let the world wail Let drip its easy tears My sorrow shall be dumb What do I say? God God pity me My gone mad that I should spit upon a rosary My become so shrunken What do God I too might feel that frenzied faith Whose touch makes temporal the most endearing grief Though it must walk a while As is its want with wild lamenting What I too might weep Where weeps the world and hangs its piteous wreaths For its new death Not truth But faith it is that keeps the world alive If all at once faith were to slacken That unconscious faith which must I know Yet be the cornerstone of all believing Birds now flying fearless across Would drop and tear to the earth Fishes would drown And the all-governing reams would tangle in the frantic hands of God And the worlds gallop headlong to destruction Oh God, I see it now In my sick brain staggers and swoon How often over me flashes this breathlessness of sudden sight In which I see the universe enrolled before me like a scroll And read thereon chaos and doom Where helpless planets roll dizzily round and round and round and round Like tops across a table Gathering speed with every spin To waver on the edge one instant Looking over and the next To shudder and lurch forward I am weary doubt it is too much Though you were dead again Poem three of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay A Suicide Cursed a life I will live with thee no more Thou has mocked me, starved me Beat my body sore And all for a pledge that was not pledged by me I have kissed thy crust And eaten sparingly that I might eat again And met thy sneers with deprecations And thy blows with tears I, from thy glutted lash, glad, crawled away As I spent passion for a holiday And now I go Nor threat, nor easy vow Of tardy kindness can avail thee now with me When sphere and faith alike are flown Only I came and I depart alone And know not where nor under whom I go But that thou canst not follow me, I know Thus I, the life, and ceased But through my brain my thought ran still Until I spake again But I go not as I came No trace is mine to bear away of that old grace I brought I have been heated in thy fires Bent by thy hands Fashioned to thy desires, thy mark is on me I am not the same, nor ever more shall be As when I came Ashes am I of all that once I seemed In me all sunk that left And all that dreamed is wakeful for alarm O shame to thee For the ill change that thou hast wrought in me Who laughed no more nor lift my throat to sing Ah, life, I would have been a pleasant thing To have about the house when I was grown If thou hadst left my little joys alone I asked of thee no favor save this one That thou wouldst leave me playing in the sun And this thou didst deny Calling my name insistently until I rose and came I saw the sun no more It were not well so long on these unpleasant thoughts to dwell Need I arise tomorrow and renew again my hated task But I am through with all things save my thoughts and this one night So that in truth I seem already quite free and remote from thee I feel no haste and no reluctance to depart I taste merely with thoughtful mean and unknown drought That in a little while I shall have quaffed Thus I to life and ceased and slightly smiled Looking at nothing And my thin dreams filed before me one by one till once again I set new words unto an old refrain Treasures thou hath never hath been mine Warm lights in many a secret chamber shine of thy gaunt house And gusts of song have blown like blossoms out to me that sat alone And I have waited well for thee to show if any share were mine And now I go Nothing I leave and if I ought attain I shall become unto my own again Thus I to life and ceased and spake no more But turning straight away Saw a certain door in the rear wall Heavy it was and low and dark Away by which none error would go That other exit had And never knock was heard there at Bearing a curious lock Some chance had shown me fashion faultily Where life held content the useless key And great course hinges thick and rough with rust Whose sudden voice across the silence must I knew be harsh and horrible to hear A strange door ugly like a dwarf So near I came I felt upon my feet The chill of acid wind creeping across the sill So stood long time till over me at last came Wearingness and all things out there past to make it room A still night drifted deep like snow about me And I longed for sleep But suddenly, marking the morning hour Bade the deep-throated bell within the tower Startled I raised my head and with a shout They'd holed upon the latch and was without Ah, long forgotten, well-remembered road Leading me back unto my old abode My father's house There in the night I came and found them feasting And all things the same as they had been before A splendor hung upon the walls And such sweet songs were sung As echoing out a very long ago Had called me from the house of life I know So fair their raiment shone I looked in shame on the unlovely garb in which I came Then straight away at my hesitancy mocked It is my father's house I said and knothed And the door opened To the shining crowd tattered and dark I entered Like a cloud, see no face but his To him I crept And father I cried And clasped his knees and wept Ah, days of joy that followed All alone I wandered through the house My own, my own, my own to touch My own to taste and smell All I had lacked so long and loved so well None took me out of sleep Nor hushed my song Nor called me in from the sunlight all day long I know not when the wonder came to me Of what my father's business might be And wither fared on what Aaron spent The tall and gracious messengers he sent Yet one day with no song from dawn till night Wondering I sat and watched them out of sight And the next day I called And on the third asked them if I might go But no one heard Then, sick with longing I was at last and went unto my father In thy vast chamber whereon he for so many years has sat Surrounded by his charts and spheres Father, I said Father, I cannot play the harp that thou didst give me And all day I sit in idleness While to and fro about me Thy serene grave servants go And I am weary of my lonely ease Better a perilous journey overseas away from thee than this The life I lead To sit all day in the sunshine like a weed That grows to naught I love thee more than they who serve thee most Yet serves thee in no way Father, I beg of thee a little task To dignify my days Tis all I ask Forever But forever this tonight Child My father's voice replied All things I fancy Hath the desire to me thou hast received Have prepared for thee within my house This spacious chamber Where are delicate things to handle and to wear And all these things are thine Dost thou love song My minstrel shall attend thee all day long Or sigh for flowers My fairest gardens stand open as fields to thee on every hand And all thy days this word shall hold the same O pleasure shall thou lack that thou shalt name But ask for task He smiled and shook his head Thou hadst thy task And latest it by He said End of poem The door Of Renaissance and Other Poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lu Renaissance and Other Poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay God's World I cannot hold thee close enough Thy winds, thy wide grey skies Thy mist that roll and rise Thy woods this autumn day That ache and sag and all but cry with color That gaunt crack to crush To lift the lean of that black bluff World World I cannot get thee close enough Long have I known a glory in it all But never knew I this Here such a passion is That stretches me apart Lord I do fear thou's may the world too beautiful this year My soul is all but out of me Let fall no burning leaf Prithee Let no bird call End of poem Poem 5 Of Renaissance and Other Poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lu Renaissance and Other Poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Afternoon on a hill I will be the gladdest thing under the sun I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one I will look at cliffs and clouds with quiet eyes Watch the wind bow down the grass And the grass rise And when lights begin to show Up from the town I will mark which must be mine And then start down End of poem Poem 6 Of Renaissance and Other Poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lu Renaissance and Other Poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Sorrow Sorrow like a ceaseless rain Beats upon my heart People twist and scream in pain Dawn will find them still again This is neither wax nor way Neither stop nor start People dress and go to town I sit in my chair All my thoughts are slow and brown Standing up or sitting down Little matters Or what gown or what shoes I wear End of poem Poem 7 Of Renaissance and Other Poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lu Renaissance and Other Poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Tavern I'll keep a little tavern Below the high hills crass Wherein all grey-eyed people May set them down and rest There shall be plates of plenty And logs to melt the chill There shall be grey-eyed people Who happen up the hill Their sound will sleep the traveler And dream his journey's end But I will rouse at midnight The falling fire to tend I, to the curious fancy But all the good I know Was taught me out of two grey eyes A long time ago This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lu Renaissance and Other Poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Ashes of Life Love has gone and left Love has gone and left me And the days are all alike Eat I must and sleep I will Would that night were here Ah, the lie awake and hear the slow hour strike Would that it were day again Was twilight near Love has gone and left me And I don't know what to do What you will is all the same to me But all the things that I begin I leave before I'm through There's little use in anything As far as I can see Love has gone and left me The neighbors knock and borrow Life goes on forever Like the gnawing of a mouse And tomorrow and tomorrow There's this little street And this little house End of Poem Poem 9 Of Renaissance and Other Poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lu For Renaissance and Other Poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay The Little Ghost I knew her for a little ghost That in my garden walked The wall is high, higher than most And the green gate was locked And yet I did not think of that Till after she was gone I knew her by the broad white hat By the dear ruffles round her feet By her small hands that hung In their lace mitts, austere and sweet Her gowns white folds among I watched to see if she would stay What she would do She looked as if she liked the way I let my garden grow She bent above my favorite mint With a conscious garden grace And now there was no hint Of sadness in her face She held her gown on either side To let her slippers show And up the walk she went with pride The way great ladies go And where the wall is built in new And is of ivy bear She paused, then opened and passed through A gate that once was there Ten of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Millay Kin Desara Am I Kin Desara That so oft falls the knocker of my door Neither loud nor soft But as long accustomed under sorrow's hand Marigolds around the step And rosemary stand And then comes sorrow And what does sorrow care For the rosemary or the marigolds there Am I Kin Desara Are we Kin That so oft upon my door Oh, come in And the poem Poem 11 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Millay Three songs are shattering One The first rose on my rose tree But it 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 Two Let the little bird 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 The little bird sing and the little lambs play Spring is here and so tis spring But not in the old way Three All the dogwood blossoms are underneath the tree Airspring was going Ah, spring is gone There comes no summer to the like of you and me Blossom time is early But no fruit sets on All the dogwood 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 in all the paths That led that way End of poem Poem 12 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay This shroud Death I say My heart is bowed unto thine Oh mother This gown will make a shroud good as any other Eye that would not wait to wear My own bridal things In a dress dark as my hair Made my answerings Eye tonight That till he came Could not Could not wait In a gown as bright as flame Held for them the gate Death I say My heart is bowed unto thine Oh mother This red gown will make a shroud good as any other End of poem Poem 13 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay The dream Love If I weep It will not matter And if you laugh I shall not care Foolish am I to think about it But it is good to feel you there Love In my sleep I dreamed of waking White and awful the moonlight reached Over the floor And somewhere Somewhere There was a shutter loose It screeched Swung in the wind And no wind blowing I was afraid and turned to you Put out my hand to you for comfort And you were gone Cold Cold as dew Under my hand the moonlight lay Love If you laugh I shall not care But if I weep It will not matter It is good to feel you there End of poem Poem 14 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay Indifference I said For love was laggared Or love was slow to come I'll hear his step And know his step When I am warm in bed But I'll never leave my pillow Though there be some As would let him in And take him in with tears I said I lay For love was laggared Or we came not until dawn I lay and listened for a step And could not get to sleep And he found me at my window With my big cloak on All sorry was the tears Some folks might weep End of poem Poem 15 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay Which wife She is neither pink nor pale And she never will be all mine She learned her hands in a fairy tale And her mouth on a valentine She has more hair than she needs And the sun is a woe to me And her voice is a string Of colored beads Or steps leading into the sea She loves me all that she can And her ways to my ways But she was not made for any man And she never will be all mine End of poem Poem 16 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay Blight Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown Rough stalks and from thick stamens Poisonous pollen blown And odors rank unbreathable From dark Corolla's throne At dawn from my damp garden I shook the chilly dew The thin bows locked behind me That sprang to let me through The blossoms slept I sought a place Where nothing lovely grew And there When day was breaking I knelt and looked around The light was near The silence was palpitant with sound I drew my hate from out my breast And thrust it in the ground Oh ye so fiercely tended Ye little seeds of hate I bent above your growing Early, noon, and late It are ye drooped and pitiful I cannot rear ye straight The sun seeks out my garden No nook is left in shade No mist nor mole nor mildew Endures on any blade Sweet rain slants under every bow Ye falter and she fades End of poem Poem 17 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay When the year grows old I cannot but remember When the year grows old October, November How she disliked the cold She used to watch the swallows Go down across the sky And turn from the window With a little sharp sigh And often when the brown leaves Were brittle on the ground And the wind in the chimney Made a melancholy sound She had a look about her That I wish I could forget The look of a scared thing Sitting in a net How beautiful at nightfall The soft spitting snow And beautiful the bear boughs Rub it to and fro But the roaring of the fire And the warmth of fur And the boiling of the kettle Were beautiful I cannot but remember When the year grows old October, November How she disliked the cold When the poem, poem 18 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Sonnet One Thou art not lovelier than lilacs No Nor honeysuckle Thou art not more fair Than small white single poppies I can bear thy beauty Though I bend before thee Though from left to right Not knowing where to go I turn my troubled eyes No more here nor there Find any refuge from thee Yet I swear So has it been with mist With moonlight so Like him who day by day Unto his drought of delicate poison Adds him one drop more Till he may drink unharmed The death of ten Even so Even nearer to beauty Who have quaffed each hour More deeply than the hour before I drink And live What has destroyed some men End of poem Poem 19 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay Sonnet 2 Time does not bring relief You all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain I miss him in the weeping of the rain I want him at the shrinking of the tide The old snow's melt from every mountainside And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane But last year's bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart And my old thoughts abide There are a hundred places where I fear to go So with his memory they brim And entering with relief some quiet place Where never fell his foot Or shown his face I say There is no memory of him here And so stands Tricket So remembering him Poem 20 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St Vincent Malay Sonnet 3 Mindful of you, the sodden earth in spring And all the flowers that in the springtime grow And dusty roads and thistles And the slow rising of the round moon All throats that sing the summer through And each departing wing And all the nests that the baird branches show And all winds that in any weather blow And all the storms that the four seasons bring You go no more on your exultant feet Up paths that only missed in morning new Or watch the wind or listen to the beat Of a bird's wings too high in air to view But you were something more than young and sweet In fact, in the long year remembers you Poem 21 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Sonnet 4 Not in this chamber, only at my birth When the long hours of that mysterious night were over And the morning was in sight I cried But in strange places Step and birth I have not seen Through alien grief and never shall one room Who in so many rooms first saw the light Child of all mothers Native So is no warmth for me at any fire today When the world's fire has burned so low I kneel Spending my breath in vain desire At that cold hearth which one time roared so strong And straightened back in wariness And longed to gather up my little gods and go End of poem 22 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Sonnet 5 If I should learn In some quite casual way That you are gone Not to return again Read from the back page of a paper say Held by a neighbor in a subway train Held at the corner of this avenue And such a street So are the papers filled A hurrying man Who happened to be you At noon today And happened to be killed I should not cry aloud I could not cry aloud Or wring my hands in such a place I should but watch the station lights rush by With a more careful interest on my face Or raise my eyes And read with greater care Where to store first And how to treat the hair At home 23 Of Renaissance and other poems This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Liu Renaissance and other poems By Edna St. Vincent Malay Bluebeard Sonnet 6 This door you might not open And you did So enter now And see for what slight thing you are betrayed Here is no treasure hid No cauldron No clear crystal mirroring the thought for truth No heads of woman slain for greed like yours No writhings of distress But only what you see Look yet again An empty room Cobwebbed and comfortless Yet this alone out of my life I kept unto myself Last any know me quite And you did so profane me when you cracked Unto the threshold of this room tonight That I must never more behold your face This now is yours