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1892–1950

WILD SWANS

Edna St. Vincent Millay

I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over. And what did I see I had not seen before? Only a question less or a question more; Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.

Tiresome heart, forever living and dying, House without air, I leave you and lock your door. Wild swans, come over the town, come over The town again, trailing your legs and crying!

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WILD SWANS · Edna St. Vincent Millay · Poetry Cove