A Celebration of Women Writers

"Weeds" by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)
From Millay, Edna St. Vincent. Second April   New York: Mitchell Kennerley, 1921. pp. 27-28.

[Page 27] 


WHITE with daisies and red with sorrel
  And empty, empty under the sky !
Life is a quest and love a quarrel
  Here is a place for me to lie.

Daisies spring from damnèd seeds,
  And this red fire that here I see
Is a worthless crop of crimson weeds,
  Cursed by farmers thriftily.

But here, unhated for an hour,
  The sorrel runs in ragged flame,
The daisy stands, a bastard flower,
  Like flowers that bear an honest name.

[Page 28] 

And here a while, where no wind brings
  The baying of a pack athirst,
May sleep the sleep of blessèd things
  The blood too bright, the brow accurst.

[Page 29]

Editor: Mary Mark Ockerbloom