Author Edna St. Vincent Millay I am in love with him to whom a hyacinth is dearerThan I shall ever be dear.On nights when the field-mice are abroad he cannot sleep:He hears their narrow teeth at the bulbs of his hyacinths.But the gnawing at my heart he does not hear. Tags love poem love poems love poems for her love poetry poems about love romantic poems Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 5 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments