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The early twentieth century in American letters was marked by poets who pushed lyric verse into new emotional and formal territory. Edna St. Vincent Millay, born on February 22, 1892, in Rockland, was among the writers who shaped that moment, working in English across multiple literary forms until her death on October 19, 1950, in Austerlitz.

Millay was educated at Camden Hills Regional High School and later at Vassar College, and she went on to work as a poet, playwright, translator, and librettist. Her range across these forms distinguished her contribution to the literary culture of her time. Among her notable works is "Renascence," a poem that drew attention to her voice and craft. Her activities as a translator and librettist extended her engagement with language beyond lyric poetry alone, placing her in a broader tradition of writers who moved between creative and interpretive modes.

Her work received formal recognition on several occasions. She was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, one of the most prominent honors available to American poets. She also received the Robert Frost Medal and the Fellowship of the Academy of American Poets. These three distinct honors, spanning different stages of recognition within the American literary establishment, reflect the sustained critical attention her writing attracted. The Fellowship of the Academy of American Poets in particular acknowledged her place within a tradition of sustained poetic achievement in the United States.

Quotes by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay's insights on:

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the day-time, and falling into at night.
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Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the day-time, and falling into at night.
And people standing in their shade / Out of a shower, undoubtedly / Would hear such music as is made / Upon a country tree.
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And people standing in their shade / Out of a shower, undoubtedly / Would hear such music as is made / Upon a country tree.
The trees along this city street, / Save for the traffic and the trains, / Would make a sound as thin and sweet / As trees in country lanes.
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The trees along this city street, / Save for the traffic and the trains, / Would make a sound as thin and sweet / As trees in country lanes.
Little skinny shoulder-blades sticking through your clothes! And where you'll get a jacket from God above knows.
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Little skinny shoulder-blades sticking through your clothes! And where you'll get a jacket from God above knows.
And if I loved you Wednesday, / Well, what is that to you? / I do not love you Thursday— / So much is true.
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And if I loved you Wednesday, / Well, what is that to you? / I do not love you Thursday— / So much is true.
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night, I miss you like hell.
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Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night, I miss you like hell.
I know I am but summer to your heart, And not the full four seasons of the year...
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I know I am but summer to your heart, And not the full four seasons of the year...
April comes like an idiot, babbling and stewing flowers.
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April comes like an idiot, babbling and stewing flowers.
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling into at night. I miss you like hell.
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Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling into at night. I miss you like hell.
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, / I have forgotten, and what arms have lain / Under my head till morning.
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What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, / I have forgotten, and what arms have lain / Under my head till morning.
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