Poem of the Day: ‘Spring’

With its varying accentual lines, the poem evokes the fact that despair will always see ruin, even when faced with beauty and renewal: April as its own cruel April Fool’s Day joke.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1914. Wikimedia Commons

The American poet Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892–1950) became, in 1923, at the age of 31, the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize. A dramatist and librettist as well as a poet, she enjoyed early success with the publication of her much-anthologized poem Renascence in 1912. Famous as a 20th century practitioner of the sonnet, and for such tightly bitter epigrams as First Fig, she was equally at home in looser, more experimental forms. “Spring,” with its varying accentual lines, evokes the fact that despair will always see ruin, even when faced with beauty and renewal: April as its own cruel April Fool’s Day joke.  

Spring 
by Edna St. Vincent Millay 
 
To what purpose, April, do you return again? 
Beauty is not enough. 
You can no longer quiet me with the redness 
Of little leaves opening stickily. 
I know what I know. 
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe 
The spikes of the crocus. 
The smell of the earth is good. 
It is apparent that there is no death. 
But what does that signify? 
Not only under ground are the brains of men 
Eaten by maggots. 
Life in itself 
Is nothing, 
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. 
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, 
April 
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers. 

___________________________________________ 

With “Poem of the Day,” The New York Sun offers a daily portion of verse selected by the Sun’s poetry editor, Joseph Bottum of Dakota State University, with the help of the North Carolina poet, Sally Thomas. Tied to the day, or the season, or just individual taste, the poems will be typically drawn from the lesser-known portion of the history of English verse. In the coming months we will be reaching out to contemporary poets for examples of current, primarily formalist work, to show that poetry can still serve as a delight to the ear, an instruction to the mind, and a tonic for the soul. 


The New York Sun

© 2025 The New York Sun Company, LLC. All rights reserved.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. The material on this site is protected by copyright law and may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used.

The New York Sun

Sign in or  Create a free account

or
By continuing you agree to our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use