Witch-wife

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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;
  In the sun ’tis 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 resign;
But she was not made for any man,
  And she never will be all mine.

Next 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Wraith
• Joaquin Miller : At The Grave Of Walker
• Joaquin Miller : By The Pacific Ocean
• Joaquin Miller : Columbus
• Joaquin Miller : Crossing The Plains
• Joaquin Miller : Dead In The Sierras
• Joaquin Miller : In Southern California
• Joaquin Miller : Juanita
• Joaquin Miller : Peter Cooper
• Joaquin Miller : The Defence Of The Alamo

Previous 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Wild Swans
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : When The Year Grows Old
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Weeds
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : We Talk Of Taxes, And I Call You Friend
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Travel
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To The Not Impossible Him
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To S. M.
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To Kathleen
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : To A Poet That Died Young