Edna St. Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends --
It gives a lovely light!

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

Above These Cares

Above these cares my spirit in calm abiding
Floats like a swimmer at sunrise, facing the pale sky;
Peaceful, heaved by the light infrequent lurch of the heavy wave
Serenely sliding
Under his weightless body, aware of the wide morning, aware of the gull
on the red buoy bedaubed with guano, aware
of his sharp cry;
Idly athirst for the sea, as who should say:
In a moment I will roll upon my mouth and drink it dry.
Painfully, under the pressure that obtains
At the sea's bottom, crushing my lungs and my brains
(For the body makes shift to breathe and after a fashion flourish
Ten fathoms deep in care,
Ten fathoms down in an element denser than air
Wherein the soul must perish)
I trap and harvest, stilling my stomach's needs;
I crawl forever, hoping never to see
Above my head the limbs of my spirit no longer free
Kicking in frenzy, a swimmer enmeshed in weeds.

Edna St. Vincent Millay My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -- It gives a lovely light! Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand! Above These Cares Above these cares my spirit in calm abiding Floats like a swimmer at sunrise, facing the pale sky; Peaceful, heaved by the light infrequent lurch of the heavy wave Serenely sliding Under his weightless body, aware of the wide morning, aware of the gull on the red buoy bedaubed with guano, aware of his sharp cry; Idly athirst for the sea, as who should say: In a moment I will roll upon my mouth and drink it dry. Painfully, under the pressure that obtains At the sea's bottom, crushing my lungs and my brains (For the body makes shift to breathe and after a fashion flourish Ten fathoms deep in care, Ten fathoms down in an element denser than air Wherein the soul must perish) I trap and harvest, stilling my stomach's needs; I crawl forever, hoping never to see Above my head the limbs of my spirit no longer free Kicking in frenzy, a swimmer enmeshed in weeds.