By Edna St. Vincent Millay Submitted by mia_marie810 Date: 2002 Jun 21 Comment on this Work [[2002.06.21.10.22.32279]] |
I shall forget you presently, my dear, So make the most of this, your little day, Your little month, your little half a year, Ere I forget or die, or move away, And we are done forever; by and by I shall forget you, as I said, but now, If you entreat me with your loveliest lie I will protest you with my favourite vow. I would indeed that love were longer-lived, And oaths were not so brittle as they are, But so it is, and nature has contrived To struggle on without a break thus far, -- Whether or not we find what we are seeking Is idle, biologically speaking. |