“To The Not Impossible Him” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

HOW shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessed spot
Is blest in every way?

Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?

The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here,–but oh, my dear
If I should ever travel

“To The Not Impossible Him” by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)
From Millay, Edna St. Vincent. A Few Figs From Thistles   New York: Harper & Brothers, 1922. p. 13.