Oh, children, growing up to be Adventurers into sophistry, Forbear, forbear to be of those That read the rood to learn the rose.
Edna St. Vincent Millaypity me that the heart is slow to learn what the swift mind beholds at every turn.
Edna St. Vincent MillayAh! Up then from the ground sprang I And hailed the earth with such a cry As is not heard save 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 on high; I laughed and laughed into the sky.
Edna St. Vincent Millay