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 snows melt from every mountain-side,
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 shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Time Does Not Bring Relief” from Collected Poems. Copyright 1931, © 1958 by Edna St. Vincent Millay and Norma Millay Ellis. Reprinted with permission of Elizabeth Barnett and Holly Peppe, Literary Executors, The Millay Society.Source: Twentieth-Century American Poetry (2004)
Thanks to the Rev. Dr. Gary Klingsporn, First Congregational Church, Nantucket, for introducing me to this poem.
Photo: Watching sheepshearing on a ranch near Buenos Aires; Queen Mary II cruise around Cape Horn, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, to Valparaiso, Chile, 2004.
to follow me on my trip to Florence, Italy; Maastricht, the Netherlands, for TEFAF, The European Fine Arts Fair; and London…always “halfway home” on any trip. I will resume blogging here in late March.