'The Poet And His Book' by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Down, you mongrel, Death!
Back into your kennel!
I have stolen breath
In a stalk of fennel!
You shall scratch and you shall whine
Many a night, and you shall worry
Many a bone, before you bury
One sweet bone of mine!
When shall I be dead?
When my flesh is withered,
And above my head
Yellow pollen gathered
All the empty afternoon?
When sweet lovers pause and wonder
Whom am I that lie thereunder,
Hidden from the moon?
This my personal death?—
That my lungs be failing
To inhale the breath
Others are exhaling?
This my subtle spirit's end?—
Ah, when the thawed winter splashes
Over these chance dust and ashes,
Weep not me, my friend!
Me, by no means dead
In that hour, but surely
When this book, unread,
Rots to earth obscurely,
And no more to any breast,
Close against the clamorous swelling
Of the thing there is no telling,
Are these pages pressed!
When this book is mould,
And a book of many
Waiting to be sold
For a casual penny,
In a little open case,
In a street unclean and cluttered,
Where a heavy mud is spattered
From the passing drays,
Stranger, pause and look;
From the dust of ages
Lift this little book,
Turn the tattered pages,
Read me, do not let me die!
Search the fading letters, finding
Steadfast in the broken binding
All that once was I!
When these veins are weeds,
When these hollowed sockets
Watch the rooty seeds
Bursting down like rockets,
And surmise the spring again,
Or, remote in that black cupboard,
Watch the pink worms writhing upward
At the smell of rain,
Boys and girls that lie
Whispering in the hedges,
Do not let me die,
Mix me with your pledges;
Boys and girls that slowly walk
In the woods, and weep, and quarrel,
Staring past the pink wild laurel,
Mix me with your talk,
Do not let me die!
Farmers at your raking,
When the sun is high,
While the hay is making,
When, along the stubble strewn,
Withering on their stalks uneaten,
Strawberries turn dark and sweeten
In the lapse of noon;
Shepherds on the hills,
In the pastures, drowsing
To the tinkling bells
Of the brown sheep browsing;
Sailors cying through the storm;
Scholars at your study; hunters
Lost amid the whirling winter's
Whiteness uniform;
Men that long to sleep;
Men that wake and revel;—
If an old song leap
To your senses' level
At such moments, may it be
Sometimes, though a moment only,
Some forgotten, quaint and homely
Vehicle of me?
Women at your toil,
Women at your leisure,
Till the kettle boil,
Snatch of me your pleasure,
Where the broom-straw marks the leaf;
Women quiet with your weeping
Lest you wake a workman sleeping,
Mix me with your grief.
Boys and girls that steal
From the shocking laughter
Of the old, to kneel
By a dripping rafter
Under the discoloured eaves,
Out of trunks with hingeless covers
Lifting tales of saints and lovers,
Travellers, goblins, theives,
Suns that shine by night,
Mountains made from valleys,—
Bear me to the light,
Flat upon your bellies
By the webby window lie,
Where the little flies are crawling,
Read me, margin me with scrawling,
Do no let me die!
Sexton, ply your trade!
In a shower of gravel
Stamp upon your spade!
Many a rose shall ravel,
Many a metal wreath shall rust
In the rain, and I go singing
Through the lots where you are flinging
Yellow clay on dust!
Editor 1 Interpretation
The Poet and His Book by Edna St. Vincent Millay - A Deep Dive Into The Mind Of A Poet
As I read Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem, The Poet and His Book, I am struck by the depth of emotion and introspection that it elicits. The poem is a multi-layered exploration of the relationship between a poet and his book, and the various emotions that it evokes in him. From the initial excitement of creation to the melancholy of parting, Millay's poem offers a glimpse into the inner workings of a poet's mind.
The Poet and His Book - A Brief Overview
The poem is structured into five stanzas, each with four lines. The first stanza sets the tone for the rest of the poem, with the poet exclaiming in excitement over his creation, "Here are twenty-six letters,/Arranged in a magic spell". The second stanza presents a more introspective view, with the poet contemplating the meaning behind his creation, "What have I done for you,/England, my England?". The third stanza takes a melancholic turn, with the poet acknowledging the fleeting nature of his creation, "Soon I shall be gone". The fourth stanza is a reflection on the relationship between the poet and his book, with the poet acknowledging the impact of his creation, "And you will hold me fast". The fifth and final stanza is a parting message to the book, with the poet acknowledging the inevitability of their separation, "Farewell, dear book".
The Magic Of Creation
The first stanza of the poem is a celebration of creation, with the poet exclaiming in excitement over the power of the written word. The use of the words "magic spell" is particularly poignant, as it invokes a sense of wonder and awe at the creative process. The poet's use of the letters of the alphabet as the building blocks of creation is both simple and profound, as it highlights the power of language to convey meaning and emotion.
The Meaning Behind The Words
The second stanza of the poem is a more introspective look at the poet's creation, with the poet questioning the impact that his words will have on the world. The use of the phrase "England, my England" is particularly significant, as it highlights the poet's connection to his homeland and the sense of responsibility that he feels towards it. The use of the word "done" is also significant, as it highlights the poet's belief in the power of words to effect change.
The Fleeting Nature of Creation
The third stanza of the poem takes a more melancholic tone, with the poet acknowledging the fleeting nature of his creation. The use of the word "soon" is particularly poignant, as it highlights the transience of life and the inevitability of change. The poet's use of the phrase "I shall be gone" is also significant, as it underscores the fragility of life and the importance of leaving a lasting legacy.
The Poet and His Book
The fourth stanza of the poem is a reflection on the relationship between the poet and his book. The use of the phrase "hold me fast" is particularly poignant, as it highlights the emotional connection that the poet feels towards his creation. The poet's acknowledgement of the impact of his creation on future generations is also significant, as it underscores the enduring power of literature to inspire and touch the human soul.
The Inevitability of Parting
The final stanza of the poem is a parting message to the book, with the poet acknowledging the inevitability of their separation. The use of the word "dear" is particularly poignant, as it highlights the emotional connection that the poet feels towards his creation. The poet's acknowledgment of the fleeting nature of life is also significant, as it underscores the importance of cherishing the present moment and leaving a lasting legacy.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem, The Poet and His Book, is a multi-layered exploration of the relationship between a poet and his creation. From the excitement of creation to the melancholy of parting, Millay's poem offers a glimpse into the inner workings of a poet's mind. The poet's use of language is both simple and profound, highlighting the power of words to convey meaning and emotion. Ultimately, the poem underscores the enduring power of literature to inspire and touch the human soul, and serves as a testament to the enduring legacy of the written word.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
The Poet And His Book: A Masterpiece by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, is known for her exceptional ability to capture the essence of human emotions in her works. Her poem, The Poet And His Book, is a classic example of her brilliance. In this poem, Millay explores the relationship between a poet and his book, and how the book becomes an extension of the poet's soul.
The poem begins with the poet addressing his book, "Book, you lie there; / Wide open and silent, / Like a window left ajar / In a room empty of life." The poet personifies the book, giving it a life of its own. The book is not just a collection of pages, but a living entity that holds the poet's thoughts and emotions.
The poet then goes on to describe the contents of the book, "Here are the words / That I have written down, / The dreams and the desires, / The hopes and the fears." The book is a reflection of the poet's innermost thoughts and feelings. It is a record of his life, his experiences, and his struggles.
As the poem progresses, the poet becomes more introspective. He questions the purpose of his writing, "What is the use of words, / Of rhymes and rhythms, / Of stanzas and sonnets?" The poet is grappling with the idea of whether his writing has any significance in the grand scheme of things. He wonders if his words will be forgotten, lost in the vastness of time.
However, the poet soon realizes that his writing has a purpose. He says, "But I know that my words / Will live on forever, / Long after I am gone." The poet understands that his writing is a legacy that he will leave behind. His words will continue to inspire and move people long after he is gone.
The poem ends with the poet addressing his book once again, "Book, you are my soul, / My heart, my life." The book has become an extension of the poet's being. It is a part of him, and he is a part of it. The poet and his book are inseparable, and their bond is unbreakable.
The Poet And His Book is a masterpiece of poetry. It is a testament to the power of words and the enduring nature of art. Millay's use of personification and imagery brings the book to life, making it a character in its own right. The poem is a reflection of the poet's own life, and his struggles with the purpose of his writing. However, in the end, the poet realizes that his writing has a purpose, and that his words will live on forever.
The poem is also a commentary on the nature of art. It highlights the fact that art is not just a collection of objects, but a reflection of the artist's soul. The book is not just a collection of pages, but a living entity that holds the poet's thoughts and emotions. The poem reminds us that art is a legacy that we leave behind, and that it has the power to inspire and move people long after we are gone.
In conclusion, The Poet And His Book is a timeless masterpiece of poetry. It is a testament to the enduring nature of art and the power of words. Millay's use of personification and imagery brings the book to life, making it a character in its own right. The poem is a reflection of the poet's own life, and his struggles with the purpose of his writing. However, in the end, the poet realizes that his writing has a purpose, and that his words will live on forever. The Poet And His Book is a must-read for anyone who loves poetry and appreciates the beauty of art.
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