Rosemary

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

     For the sake of some things
       That be now no more
     I will strew rushes
       On my chamber-floor,
     I will plant bergamot
       At my kitchen-door.

     For the sake of dim things
       That were once so plain
     I will set a barrel
       Out to catch the rain,
     I will hang an iron pot
       On an iron crane.

     Many things be dead and gone
       That were brave and gay;
     For the sake of these things
       I will learn to say,
     "An it please you, gentle sirs,"
       "Alack!" and "Well-a-day!"