Edna St. Vincent Millay
Pity Me Not
Pi-ty me not be-cause the light of day
At close of day no lon-ger walks the sky;
Pi-ty me not for beau-ties passed a-way
From field and thick-et as the year goes by.
Pi-ty me not the wan-ing of the moon,
Or that the eb-bing tide goes out to sea,
Or that a man's de-sire is hushed so soon,
And you no lon-ger look with love on me.
This have I al-ways known: Love is no more
Than the wide blos-som which the wind as-sails,
Than the great tide that treads the shift-ing shore,
Strew-ing fresh wreck-age gath-ered in the gales.
Pi-ty me that the heart is slow to learn
What the swift mind be-holds at eve-ry turn.