Edna St Vincent Millay - To a Poet a Thousand Years Hence

TO A POET A THOUSAND YEARS HENCE

O not to a man—delightful lands, Or tides that paint the shores, But to what blooms henceforth will rise, As I beneath the floors.

For where May flowers greet the sun, And honeyed winds arise, Your beauty goes and lingers on, In nature’s grand disguise.