Night Is My Sister, And How Deep In Love

Night is my sister, and how deep in love,
How drowned in love and weedily washed ashore,
There to be fretted by the drag and shove
At the tide's edge, I lie—these things and more:
Whose arm alone between me and the sand,
Whose voice alone, whose pitiful breath brought near,
Could thaw these nostrils and unlock this hand,
She could advise you, should you care to hear.
Small chance, however, in a storm so black,
A man will leave his friendly fire and snug
For a drowned woman's sake, and bring her back
To drip and scatter shells upon the rug.
No one but Night, with tears on her dark face,
Watches beside me in this windy place.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Comments (5)

My favorite poem from childhood, some 66 years ago.
Good poem I liked it a lot.
nice one..... my favourite poem....
it is a wonderful poem and makes me want to cry because my brother sang it in his school concert
This wonderful poem was read to me by my grandfather nearly every night as I grew up. It is absolutely my favorite poem. Now I read it to my grandsons from the same old four volume set of Ogden Nash's poetry that I inherited from my grandfather.