Think not, nor for a moment let your mind,
Wearied with thinking, doze upon the thought
That the work’s done and the long day behind,
And beauty, since ’tis paid for, can be bought.
If in the moonlight from the silent bough
Suddenly with precision speak your name
The nightingale, be not assured that now
His wing is limed and his wild virtue tame.
Beauty beyond all feathers that have flown
Is free; you shall not hood her to your wrist,
Nor sting her eyes, nor have her for your own
In any fashion; beauty billed and kissed
Is not your turtle; tread her like a dove—
She loves you not; she never heard of love.
I am busy working to bring Edna St. Vincent Millay's "Think not, nor fr a moment let your mind," 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 "Think not, nor fr a moment let your mind," transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.