Olympian gods, mark now my bedside lamp
Blown out; and be advised too late that he
Whom you call sire is stolen into the camp
Of warring Earth, and lies abed with me.
Call out your golden hordes, the harm is done:
Enraptured in his great embrace I lie;
Shake heaven with spears, but I shall bear a son
Branded with godhead, heel and brow and thigh.
Whom think not to bedazzle or confound
With meteoric splendours or display
Of blackened moons or suns or the big sound
Of sudden thunder on a silent day;
Pain and compassion shall he know, being mine,—
Confusion never, that is half divine.
I am busy working to bring Edna St. Vincent Millay's "Olympian gods, mark now my bedside lamp" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Edna St. Vincent Millay's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Olympian gods, mark now my bedside lamp" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.