A Few Figs from Thistles

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English

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2010

Écrit par
Edna St. Vincent Millay

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English

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2010

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08 décembre 2010

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Project Gutenberg's A Few Figs from Thistles, by Edna St. Vincent MillayThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it,give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: A Few Figs from ThistlesAuthor: Edna St. Vincent MillayPosting Date: July 26, 2009 [EBook #4399] Release Date: August, 2003 First Posted: January 26, 2002Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A FEW FIGS FROM THISTLES ***Produced by David StarnerA Few Figs from ThistlesPoems and SonnetsbyEdna St. Vincent MillayThanks are due to the editors of Ainslie's, The Dial, Pearson's Poetry, Reedy's Mirror, and Vanity Fair, for their kindpermission to republish various of these poems.This edition of "A Few Figs from Thistles" contains several poems not included in earlier editions.First Fig My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— It gives a lovely light!Second Fig Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!Recuerdo We were very tired, we were very merry— We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable— But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table, We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon; And the whistles kept blowing, and the ...

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Publié par

chuif

Publié le

08 décembre 2010

Nombre de lectures

Langue

English

A Few Figs from ThistlesPoems and SonnetsybEdna St. Vincent MillayPTheaarnskos n'asr eP doueter yt,o Rtheee deyd'ist orMsir roof r,A iannsldi e'Vsa, nTithy e FDaiira,l,for their kind permission to republish various ofthese poems.sTehivse readl itpioone mofs "nAo tF ienwc luFidgesd f irno me arTliheirs tleedsit"i ocnosn.tainsFirst Fig M Ity wciall nndloet lbausrt ntsh ea t nibgohtth; ends; B Iut t gaivhe, s may lfooveesl,y laignhdt !oh, my friends—Second Fig Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the!dnas

Recuerdo We were very tired, we were very merry— ItW we ahsa db agroe naen bd abcrki gahnt,d afnordt hs malle llneigd hlti koen at hste afbelrery—. But we looked into a fire, we leaned across atable, AWned ltahye own hais thliell-st okpe put nbdleorwnienagt, ha tnhde thmeo odna;wncame soon. We were very tired, we were very merry— We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry; And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear, From a dozen of each we had boughtsomewhere; And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold, And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold. We were very tired, we were very merry, We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. We hailed, "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head, And bought a morning paper, which neither of us;daer And she wept, "God bless you!" for the applesand pears, And we gave her all our money but our subwayfares.Thursday

A nWde ilfl, I wlohvaet di s ytohua t Wtoe dynoeus?day, I dSoo nmout cloh vies tyrouue .Thursday— A Insd mwohrye ythoau nc Io cmaen csoeme.plaining I loved you Wednesday,—yes—but what Is that to me?To the Not Impossible Him H Toow Csahiarlol Ia knnd oCw,a tuhnalye,ss I go WIsh ebtlheestr ionr envoet rtyh iws abyle?ssed spot N Ios wt hiti s mbaeyn ebaet, ht hme yf lnoowseer; for me H Tohwe sChaalrlt Ih taeglil,n iuannl erosss eI ?smell T hNeo fpaobrwiec r osf hmalyl fdiaimt hfour l rlaovveel W Ifh iIl sst hI osutlad y ehveerr et,ra—vbeul!t oh, my dear,Macdougal Street As I went walking up and down to take theevening air,

(Sweet to meet upon the street, why must I beso shy?) I (s"aLiwt tlhei md irltayy Lhaisti nh acnhidl du, pleotn t hhee rl atodryn bbyl!a")ck hair; The women squatting on the stoops were slovenlyand fat, (Lay me out in organdie, lay me out in lawn!) And everywhere I stepped there was a baby or a;tac (Lord God in Heaven, will it never be dawn?) The fruit-carts and clam-carts were ribald as a,riaf (Pink nets and wet shells trodden under heel) She had haggled from the fruit-man of his rotting;eraw (I shall never get to sleep, the way I feel!) He walked like a king through the filth and theclutter, (Sweet to meet upon the street, why did youglance me by?) But he caught the quaint Italian quip she flunghim from the gutter; (What can there be to cry about that I should lieand cry?) He laid his darling hand upon her little black head, (I wish I were a ragged child with ear-rings in myears!) And he said she was a baggage to have saidwhat she had said; (Truly I shall be ill unless I stop these tears!)

The Singing-Woman from the Wood's Edge What should I be but a prophet and a liar, Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose fatherwas a friar? Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water, What should I be but the fiend's god-daughter? And who should be my playmates but the adderand the frog, That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a?gob And what should be my singing, that waschristened at an altar, But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of thePsalter? You will see such webs on the wet grass, maybe, As a pixie-mother weaves for her baby, YAos uf lawsillh feisn di ns tuhceh fmlaesmhee sa t otfh ae mwaerv-em'so twheeer'dsy weebbb, FBruot mth tehree lcoovem eosf tao pbriiretsht fnoor cao lmepmreocn hsapuan,wn ASnudc hy tohui nngesv aers thhaev et hsinegesn tahnadt syowua dndelvede r mweil!l see AWftheart asllh'so usladi dI baen db uatf tae r haalrl'lso t daonnde ,a nun? In through the bushes, on any foggy day, My Da would come a-swishing of the drops away, With a prayer for my death and a groan for my

birth, A-mumbling of his beads for all that he wasworth. And there'd sit my Ma, with her knees beneathher chin, A-looking in his face and a-drinking of it in, And a-marking in the moss some funny littlesaying That would mean just the opposite of all that hewas praying! He taught me the holy-talk of Vesper and ofMatin, He heard me my Greek and he heard me myLatin, He blessed me and crossed me to keep my soulfrom evil, And we watched him out of sight, and weconjured up the devil! Oh, the things I haven't seen and the things Ihaven't known. What with hedges and ditches till after I wasgrown, And yanked both ways by my mother and myfather, With a "Which would you better?" and a "Whichwould you rather?" WWihtha t hsihmo fuolrd Ia bsier eb uatn jdu sht erw fhoart Ia adamm?,

She Is Overheard Singing O Ah,n dP rJuoea ns hae gheanstl ea lpoavteier,nt man, A Bndu t Amgya tthrau'es lAorvteh''s i sa ar ohvuegr!-the-hearth,— MAign, d hheor nmesatn 'ass aas bgroiaord, as cheese Sue tells her love what he's thinking of,— But my dear lad's a liar! O Ahr, eS tuheic ak nwdi tPh ruMei g aannd d AJgoaatnh!a T hAenyd bgitnea twh emiry tnhraemaed sli kaen da sbhoankee; their heads And Prue says, "Mine's a patient man, As never snaps me up," A Cndo uAldg alitvhea ,c o"Antrtehn't iisn aa hcuugp-;t"he-hearth, S uAlel 'so nme acno'lso umri,n ad nisd lcilkeea rgo—od jell— A nWdh aMti'sg' ts o ncoo cmalel tnoe txht iynek aart, all While Joan makes boast of a gentle lad, B uTth taht'esy t raoll uwbloeudl dw igtihv et htahte alinfed tthhiesy; l—ive For a look from the man I kiss! Cold he slants his eyes about, And few enough's his choice,— Though he'd slip me clean for a nun, or a queen,

Or a beggar with knots in her voice,— And Agatha will turn awake A nWdh ilMei gh earn dg oSoude maannd sJloeaenp sa nsdo uPnrdu,e Will hear the clock strike round, F oArs Parsukes snhoet hwahse na opra twiehnyt, man, A Bndu t Mpiege ap nwd hSo'use phaasvsei nnga buyg,ht to do Joan is paired with a putterer A nTdh aAt gbaatshtae'ss aAnrtdh 't iass tae sh uagn-dt hsea-lhtse,arth,— But my true love is false!The Prisoner All right, Go ahead! What's in a name? I guess I'll be locked into As much as I'm locked out of!The Unexplorer There was a road ran past our house Too lovely to explore. IT haastk ief dy omuy fomlloothweerd ownhceer—e ist hlee dsaid

(ItT bhraot'us gwhth yy oI uh taov teh ne otm tilrka-vmelaend' s mdooroer..)Grown-up Was it for this I uttered prayers, TAhnadt snoobwb,e dd oamned sctiucr saes da apnladt eki,cked the stairs, I should retire at half-past eight?The Penitent I hBaord n a olfit tal eli tStloer rSoinw,, I fAonudn ds hau tr ouos ma lla llw idtahimn;p with gloom A "nAdn, d",L iLttitltel eS Soirnr,o wpr, awy eGepo,d" tsoa iddi eI,, A nAdn dI tuhpinokn thhoew flboaodr Iw'ville libeeen!" A Ilta sm faotrt eprieodu sn polt aan nwinhigt!— A Ts hfea rl aams pg lomoigmh t wheanvt ei nb teheant lrito!om, My little Sorrow would not weep, T oM sy alivttel e mSyi ns owuol uIl dc oguol dt on oslt ekeepe—p My graceless mind on it! So up I got in anger,

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