Looking back at the first time a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay appeared in these pages, it seems that I ran on a bit in my introductory paragraphs. So I will forego a lot of verbiage on the poet this week, and respectfully refer readers to the poetry tab at this web site for what, if I do say so myself, is a nice essay on Ms. Millary and her work, as well as on my long time affection for both.

To appreciate "The Concert" it is important to understand that Ms. Millay was a promiscuous enchantress, with many lovers and a somewhat blasé attitude toward their jealousies. I will revisit her poetry at some length in these pages before I close down this project. In the meantime, please enjoy this poem. It is a classic work by Edna St. Vincent Millay, one of America's great poets.

My own little secret having to do with this poem is that I own a beat-up copy of Vol. XXII, No. 11 of Poetry magazine, dated May 1923, in which this poem first appeared. I found this issue of Poetry while rummaging through a pile of old magazines in a used book store in New Market, Virginia. It is not worth anything, monetarily. Probably $3 or so. But I was thrilled when I found it. And it will surely be tossed out when I die because no one I know will recognize what a little treasure it is. But I like having it. And I like knowing that I have it.