Explore "Your Face is Like a Chamber" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Your face is like a chamber where a king
Dies of his wounds, untended and alone, / Stifling with courteous gesture the crude moan
That speaks too loud of mortal perishing, / Rising on elbow in the dark to sing
Some rhyme now out of season but well known
In days when banners in his face were blown
And every woman had a rose to fling.
I know that through your eyes which look on me
Who stand regarding you with pitiful breath, / You see beyond the moment's pause, you see
The sunny sky, the skimming bird beneath, / And, fronting on your windows hopelessly, / Black in the noon, the broad estates of Death.