Beauty never slumbers; All is in her name; But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
Edna St. Vincent MillayIf I love you Wednesday, What is that to you? I do not love you Thursday - so much is true.
Edna St. Vincent MillayBeauty in all things-no, we cannot hope for that; but some place set apart for it.
Edna St. Vincent MillayBut far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach, And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling, The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.
Edna St. Vincent Millay