And must I then, indeed, Pain, live with you
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1892 to 1950
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. You can also use the up (↑) and down (↓) arrows to move a line one place at a time, or the top (⇑) and bottom (⇓) arrows to move a line directly to the top or bottom. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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You will die with me: but I shall, at best,
All through my life?—sharing my fire, my bed,
Let us to dinner, comrade, and be fed;—
And, when I feed myself, feeding you, too?
And, with you living, I can live life through.
So be it, then, if what seems true, is true:
Sharing—oh, worst of all things!—the same head?—
With frosty look; robbing my nights of rest;
And must I then, indeed, Pain, live with you
And making harder things I did with ease.
Spying upon my ardent offices
Forgive you with restraint, for deeds like these.
I cannot die till you yourself are dead,
Yet have you done me harm, ungracious guest,
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