White with daisies and red with sorrel
And empty, empty under the sky!-
Life is a quest and love a quarrel-
Here is a place for me to lie.
Daisies spring from damned seeds,
And this red fire that here I see
Is a worthless crop of crimson weeds,
Cursed by farmers thriftily.
But here, unhated for an hour,
The sorrel runs in ragged flame,
The daisy stands, a bastard flower,
Like flowers that bear an honest name.
And here a while, where no wind brings
The baying of a pack athirst,
May sleep the sleep of blessed things,
The blood too bright, the brow accurst.
Weeds
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Poem topics: fire, flower, life, sky, spring, wind, white, place, bright, flame, crimson, love, red, sleep, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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