Love Is Not All; It Is Not

Safe Upon The Solid Rock The Ugly Houses Stand. Come And See My Shining Palace Built Upon The Sand!

A Poem From Edna St. Vincent Millay: Grown-up Was It For This I Uttered Prayers, And Sobbed And Cursed And Kicked The Stairs, That Now, Domestic As A Plate, I Should Retire At Half-past Eight?

But She Was Not Made For Any Man, And She Will Never Be All Mine.

I Know What My Heart Is Like Since Your Love Died: It Is Like A Hollow Ledge Holding A Little Pool Left There By The Tide, A Little Tepid Pool, Drying Inward From The Edge.

Youth, Have No Pity; Leave No Farthing Here For Age To Invest In Compromise And Fear.