Sonnet XXX – Edna St. Vincent Millay

It’s Valentine’s day, a day I’ve never really cared for. On this day, twee messages are everywhere, muddying the waters of society and confusing themselves with real sentiment. It’s a day I find myself obliged to mark, but it is absolutely one of the occasions that has been crassly commercialised.

In the spirit, however, of the whole romantic thing, I thought I would write about a poem. It’s my favourite poem, at the moment, and one of about four or five that I can recite. I came across it by chance a year ago, and it stuck in my head.

Forgive, gentle┬áreader, the incredible pretentiousness of the following lines (including this one). It is difficult to write about love and love poetry without sounding overly sentimental. I’ve tried to make it as un-gushing as possible, but have mostly failed.

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