I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand
In such a way that the extremest band
Of brittle seaweed shall escape my door
...
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A short journey down the memory lane to recollect some sweet moments enjoyed during youth, depicted with an amazing style. Thanks for sharing it here.
An interesting piece of literature... with a touch of mysticism.
Uncomfortably like The Lake At Innisfree, of Yeats. I personally think she lost it, when her work shed its 1920's flippancy. See (of course) Recuerdo to appreciate the difference. MM
She had a style entirely her own- there was a touch of Gothic mysteries about some of her poetry
A fantastic piece and great introduction to Edna St. Vincent Millay.
Wt about explaintion