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Heart, have no pity on this house of bone:
Shake it with dancing, break it down with joy.
No man holds mortgage on it; it is your own;
To give, to sell at auction, to destroy.

-- Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1952), Poem XXIX, "Heart, have no pity"

I have discovered the poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay.

To be more accurate, I'd been aware of her existence before, and had read several of her poems. I happened across them as I was grazing through the Norton Anthology of Poetry, but it was an indiscriminate grazing.

This time, her poetry really hit me, hard.


It will be a long and meaningful relationship.

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