Edna St Vincent Millay
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 stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that 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
its boughs more silent 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.
The lovely lady on the right is Marie Helvin, wife of photographer David Bailey.