I Know The Face Of Falsehood And Her Tongue by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I know the face of Falsehood and her Tongue
Honeyed with unction, Plausible with guile,
Are dear to men, whom count me not among,
That owe their daily credit to her smile;
Such have been succoured out of great distress
By her contriving, if accounts be true:
Their deference now above the board, I guess,
Dishcharges what beneath the board is due.
As for myself, I'd liefer lack her aid
Than eat her presence; let this building fall:
But let me never lift my latch, afraid
To hear her simpering accents in the hall,
Nor force an entrance past mephitic airs
Of stale patchoulie hanging on my stairs.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Other poems by 'Edna St. Vincent Millay'

I Think I Should Have Loved You

Spring

Departure

God's World

Alms

I Shall Forget You Presently

Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart

Sonnet (Women Have Loved Before As I Love Now)

The Death Of Autumn

Night Is My Sister, And How Deep In Love

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