What Lips My Lips Have Kissed
by
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1892 - 1951
 
What lips my lips have kissed and where and why
I have forgotten. And what arms have lain
Under my head till morning. But the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply.
And in my heart there grows a quite pain
For unremembered lads who not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.

Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree.
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one
Yet knows it boughs more lonely than before.
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while that in me sings no more.