Thou Famished Grave by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Thou famished grave, I will not fill thee yet, / Roar though thou dost, I am too happy here;

Gnaw thine own sides, fast on; I have no fear

Of thy dark project, but my heart is set

On living-I have heroes to beget

Before I die; I will not come anear

Thy dismal jaws for many a splendid year;

Till I be old, I aim not to be eat. I cannot starve thee out: I am thy prey

And thou shalt have me; but I dare defend

That I can stave thee off; and I dare say, / What with the life I lead, the force I spend, / I'll be but bones and jewels on that day, / And leave thee hungry even in the end.

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