Sonnets 03: Not With Libations, But With Shouts And Laughter by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Not with libations, but with shouts and laughter
We drenched the altars of Love's sacred grove,
Shaking to earth green fruits, impatient after
The launching of the colored moths of Love.
Love's proper myrtle and his mother's zone
We bound about our irreligious brows,
And fettered him with garlands of our own,
And spread a banquet in his frugal house.
Not yet the god has spoken; but I fear
Though we should break our bodies in his flame,
And pour our blood upon his altar, here
Henceforward is a grove without a name,
A pasture to the shaggy goats of Pan,
Whence flee forever a woman and a man.

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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