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Poem: “Passer Mortuus Est” Edna St. Vincent Millay

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American LiteratureAmerican PoetryEdna St. Vincent MillayPoems by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Passer Mortuus Est


Death devours all lovely things;
Lesbia with her sparrow
Shares the darkness,—presently
Every bed is narrow.

Unremembered as old rain
Dries the sheer libation,
And the little petulant hand
Is an annotation.

After all, my erstwhile dear,
My no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?


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American LiteratureAmerican PoetryEdna St. Vincent MillayPoems by Edna St. Vincent Millay


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