Explore "Eel-Grass" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
No matter what I say, / All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay, / And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie and bleach / At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach: / Nothing in this place.