Sands,+C

=​Pity Me Not=

Edna St Vincent Millay
Pity me not because the light of day At close of day no longer walks the sky; Pity me not for beauties passed away From field and thicket as the year goes by Pity me not the waning of the moon, Nor that the ebbing tide goes out to sea, Nor that a man's desire is hushed so soon, And you no longer look with love on me.

This have I known always: love is no more Than the wide blossom which the wind assails; Than the great tide that treads the shifting shore, Strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales. Pity me that the heart is slow to learn What the swift mind beholds at every turn.

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