Explore "When did I Ever Deny" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When did I ever deny, though this was fleeting, / That this was love? When did I ever, I say, / With iron thumb put out the eyes of day
In this cold world where charity lies bleating
Under a thorn, and none to give him greeting, / And all that lights endeavour on its way
Is the teased lamp of loving, the torn ray
Of the least kind, the most clandestine meeting?
As God's my judge, I do cry holy, holy, / Upon the name of love however brief, / For want of whose ill-trimmed, aspiring wick
More days than one I have gone forward slowly
In utter dark, scuffling the drifted leaf, / Tapping the road before me with a stick.