Explore "What Chores" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
What chores these churls do put upon the great, / What chains, what harness; the unfettered mind, / At dawn, in all directions flying blind
Yet certain, might accomplish, might create
What all men must consult or contemplate,-
Save that the spirit, earth-born and born kind, / Cannot forget small questions left behind, / Nor honest human impulse underrate:
Oh, how the speaking pen has been impeded, / To its own cost and to the cost of speech, / By specious hands that for some thinly-needed
Answer or autograph, would claw a breach
In perfect thought... till broken thought receded
And ebbed in foam, like ocean down a beach.