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72nd out of 973 books
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1,005 voters
Collected Sonnets
More than 180 sonnets selected from Millay's books of poems -- including 20 sonnets from Mine the Harvest not contained in previous editions of her Collected Sonnets -- are brought together in this new, expanded edition. An introduction by Norma Millay, written expressly for this volume, focuses on examples of the poet's variations in sonnet structure. Here is the voice of...more
Paperback, 224 pages
Published
April 13th 1988
by Harper Perennial
(first published 1917)
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I remember one of Virginia Woolf's essays where she stated that Christina Rossetti's beautiful lyric poem "Birthday" seemed absurd and inadequate in the modern world. Millay also came under criticism and virtually lost her great reputation when modernists like T.S. Eliot and Wallace Stevens came along.
Do the poems in this volume stand the test of time? They sure do. Intimate poems of often unrequited love and loss, Millay created sonnets (many of them in the Pertrarchan octave-abba) that are as...more
Do the poems in this volume stand the test of time? They sure do. Intimate poems of often unrequited love and loss, Millay created sonnets (many of them in the Pertrarchan octave-abba) that are as...more
I consider her sonnets world-class, right up there with Shakespeare and Browning, and I favor Millay's.
Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring,
And all the flowers that in the springtime grow;
And dusty roads, and thistles, and the slow
Rising of the round moon; all throats that sing
The summer through, and each departing wing,
And all the nests that the bared branches show;
And all winds that in any weather blow,
And all the storms that the four seasons bring;
You go no more on your exultant feet
Up p...more
Apr 04, 2013
K8
rated it
5 of 5 stars
·
review of another edition
Recommended to K8 by:
Skye Shirley
Favorite Sonnets:
Time does not bring relief
Bluebeard
Love, though for this you riddle me with darts
Once more into my arid days like dew
When I too long have looked upon your face
Let you not say of me when I am old
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this:
As to some lovely temple, tenantless
When you, that at this moment are to me
Love is not blind. I see with single eye
I know I am but summer to your heart
Pity me not because the light of day
Oh, oh, you will be worry for that word!
I shall go back again...more
Time does not bring relief
Bluebeard
Love, though for this you riddle me with darts
Once more into my arid days like dew
When I too long have looked upon your face
Let you not say of me when I am old
Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this:
As to some lovely temple, tenantless
When you, that at this moment are to me
Love is not blind. I see with single eye
I know I am but summer to your heart
Pity me not because the light of day
Oh, oh, you will be worry for that word!
I shall go back again...more
These sonnets grow more beautiful with each reading...this is a book I was revisiting and will do so again. So many have to do with loss of a love, whether through that love fading, being transferred to another, or by the death of the lover. They can be tragic or haunting or just a little sad, or even blasé depending on Millay's approach.
I think that's what I love most about these poems. It is not just Millay's choice of words and rhythm and structure that is perfect; it is also the fact that h...more
I think that's what I love most about these poems. It is not just Millay's choice of words and rhythm and structure that is perfect; it is also the fact that h...more
There was a time when she was my favorite poet. Maybe she still is. Maybe I'm just not good at digesting so much poetry at once. There were still moments of brilliance. But her themes are basically just love and nature, and it got old quick. Occasionally she threw in classical themes, the Greek myths especially and that made me happy. And I'll leave you with my favorite lines that she's ever wrote, from the sonnet "I shall go back again to the bleak shore"
The love that stood a moment in your eye...more
The love that stood a moment in your eye...more
when i too long have looked upon your face,
wherein for me a brightness unobscured,
save by the mists of brightness has its place,
and terrible beauty not to be endured,
i turn away reluctant from your light
and stand irresolute, a mind undone,
a silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
from having looked too long upon the sun.
then is my daily life a narrow room
in which a little while, uncertainly,
surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
among familiar things grown strange to me
making my way, i pause, and f...more
wherein for me a brightness unobscured,
save by the mists of brightness has its place,
and terrible beauty not to be endured,
i turn away reluctant from your light
and stand irresolute, a mind undone,
a silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight
from having looked too long upon the sun.
then is my daily life a narrow room
in which a little while, uncertainly,
surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
among familiar things grown strange to me
making my way, i pause, and f...more
There is nothing I love more than the sonnets of Edna St. Vincent Millay.
"Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide,
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, - so with his memory they brim.
And...more
"Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide,
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, - so with his memory they brim.
And...more
If you like Edna St. Vincent Millay, you're fine by me.
Now, I don't dispute the critics who say that Millay was a limited poet; I don't entirely disagree with those who say that Millay's "Look at what a bad girl I am! Look, look: I'm naughty, I love sex and I love talking about sex (as well as nature and, occasionally, world affairs), and I don't care what people say about me!" posturing has a limiting effect on her poetry, such that many of her poems end up saying virtually the same thing as on...more
Now, I don't dispute the critics who say that Millay was a limited poet; I don't entirely disagree with those who say that Millay's "Look at what a bad girl I am! Look, look: I'm naughty, I love sex and I love talking about sex (as well as nature and, occasionally, world affairs), and I don't care what people say about me!" posturing has a limiting effect on her poetry, such that many of her poems end up saying virtually the same thing as on...more
I’ve had some dark days here and there in my life, more there than here anymore and some admittedly of my own making. Days where I allowed such hopelessness and grief to deaden my interest in everything around me. No book or tv program or even the most gorgeous day outside could hold my thoughts for more than a moment. Strangely what did hold my interest would be these sonnets. I’d read them aloud to myself. I’d highlight my favorite lines. I’d announce to the nobody that was listening, “Time do...more
May 15, 2007
Lucy
rated it
4 of 5 stars
·
review of another edition
Shelves:
verse-and-stage,
the-mile
c
When we that wore the myrtle wear the dust,
And years of darkness cover up our eyes,
And all our arrogant laughter and sweet lust
Keep counsel with the scruples of the wise;
When boys and girls that now are in the loins
Of croaking lads, dip oar into the sea,--
And who are these that dive for copper coins?
No longer we, my love, no longer we--
Then let the fortunate breathers of the air,
When we lie speechless in the muffling mould,
Tease not our ghosts with slander, pause not there
To say that love is fa...more
When we that wore the myrtle wear the dust,
And years of darkness cover up our eyes,
And all our arrogant laughter and sweet lust
Keep counsel with the scruples of the wise;
When boys and girls that now are in the loins
Of croaking lads, dip oar into the sea,--
And who are these that dive for copper coins?
No longer we, my love, no longer we--
Then let the fortunate breathers of the air,
When we lie speechless in the muffling mould,
Tease not our ghosts with slander, pause not there
To say that love is fa...more
She had kept that kettle boiling all night long, for company.
How can your heart not break, with that image in your mind?
How can your heart not break, with that image in your mind?
It is true that Shakespeare and his contemporaries revolutionized the sonnet, created an endlessly versatile new variant for the English language, and that Shakespeare himself set a standard against which sonnets have been held for centuries. But Millay made the sonnet her own as well. She brought it into the twentieth century, proved that the use of modern language did not damage its beauty but honed it, and demonstrated that in skilled hands it can be the perfect vehicle for both emotion and t...more
This is on my short list of volumes of poetry that can be read straight through as if it were a novel. Deeply loved.
a true pioneer in breaking with sonnet convention and feminine subversiveness; a real treat!
beautifully written but i did not manage to finish reading all the sonnets in this book because i am such a loser when it comes to managing time for reading!!
we'll meet again next time, edna
we'll meet again next time, edna
Maybe it was overkill, but I've read this Millay, too.
I found her sonnets quite by accident. Wonderful writer!
She is one of my favorite poets of all time
my all-time favorite book of sonnets.
YES YES YES
six star book
six star book
So, so, so, so beautiful. For every one that lost me a little, there were at least two that pulled me back in. Need to buy a copy of this to keep for reference; I have too many favourites.
view all 4 comments
my favorite
Precise. Well-crafted. Beautiful.
These are great sonnets, full of loneliness and desire, and love. Or the loss of love? The want for love? Many of these sonnets are written in larger sequences, and while many of the individual poems are excellent, and it is the structure of the sequences that leave me taken with Millay. These may be my favorite American sonnets, alongside Berryman's.
Classic poetry, all sonnets from Edna St. Vincent Millay. Dark. Many of them about lost loves and death. Haunting. Beautiful. Everyone should read.
Apr 13, 2008
Karen L.
rated it
3 of 5 stars
Recommends it for:
real poetry enthusiasts
Shelves:
poetry
I like her love sonnet, "Not in a silver casket cool with pearls..." She has a beautiful poets voice, is definitely a master of the sonnet and is is a real word smith, however, her poems are not written in such a way that most people can relate to them. They can be a bit esoteric.
I fell desperately in love with Millay after reading "First Fig" in my history textbook. Some years later, I chose my college partly based upon the fact that she had gone there. Funny, irreverant, passionate and smart, Millay's work has incredible rhythm, rhyme, and impact.
Love her! Sometimes sassy and coy, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes earnest, tender and loving. Fully one of the greatest writers we have known and a true master of the sonnet form (which is really hard to write in, actually!).
I hate when I can't find the right cover image. It's a way bigger deal to me than it should be, especially when it's a cover like the Tree of Life cover on this cheapo hardback I got my hands on.
Edna St. Vincent Millay is possibly one of my favourite poets. I like her poems about love and heartbreak. How surprising ;)
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Pulitzer Prize-winning poet (the first woman to receive the Pulitzer for poetry).
This famous portrait of Vincent (as she was called by friends) was taken by Carl Van Vechten in 1933.
More about Edna St. Vincent Millay...
This famous portrait of Vincent (as she was called by friends) was taken by Carl Van Vechten in 1933.
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