by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I drank at every vine.
   The last was like the first.
I came upon no wine
   So wonderful as thirst.

I gnawed at every root.
   I ate of every plant.
I came upon no fruit
   So wonderful as want.

Feed the grape and bean
   To the vintner and monger;
I will lie down lean
   With my thirst and my hunger.

Monadnock Valley Press > Millay