To The Not Impossible Him

How shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
Is blest in every way?

Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose:
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?

The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here,—but oh, my dear,
If I should ever travel!

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Comments (1)

Really love this poem. How do we ever really know if the one really meant for us is the one we are with? It's a great big world out there! ! ! Love the fact this poem makes one wonder!