Seeking Poem: on lacking time to savoring life, possibly by Edna St. vincent Millay?

[R]

The gist of the poem I am seeking is, "somehow there was never time to savor life as the stream of it passed by". I thought it was a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, but I can't seem to find it through Google. I don't want to read every one of her poems looking for this particular one though! Hopefully someone will be familiar with it as well. I read this poem 15-20 years ago. It may have been written 1917-1950? Unfortunately, I don't have more information than that.

[Ayshe]

Could it have been Sappho? I am no philosopher, or even much of a storyteller; I am a poet. I suppose, truly, on thinking, I would like to have each instant again as it passes; there is never enough time, nor has ever been, to savor life to the full. appears in My name is Sappho: A novel.

[R]

Ayshe wrote: "Could it have been Sappho? I am no philosopher, or even much of a storyteller; I am a poet. I suppose, truly, on thinking, I would like to have each instant again as it passes; there..."

thanks so much for replying! unfortunately that isn't the one i'm looking for :(.

[Kate]

R ~~
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Good luck!

[Ann]

A little Googling brought up this poem -- is this it?

Edna St. Vincent Millay, Sonnet XXVIII (1931)
When we are old and these rejoicing veins
Are frosty channels to a muted stream,
And out of all our burning their remains
No feeblest spark to fire us, even in dream,
This be our solace: that it was not said
When we were young and warm and in our prime,
Upon our couch we lay as lie the dead,
Sleeping away the unreturning time.
O sweet, O heavy-lidded, O my love,
When morning strikes her spear upon the land,
And we must rise and arm us and reprove
The insolent daylight with a steady hand,
Be not discountenanced if the knowing know
We rose from rapture but an hour ago.

[Rachel]

It's a bit older than what you described, but maybe Two in the Campagna by Robert Browning? https://poets.org/poem/two-campagna