Saturday, May 2, 2015

Daily Dose


From Collected Poems, by Edna St. Vincent Millay

THE COURAGE MY MOTHER HAD

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she'd left to me

The thing she took into the grave!—
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.

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