She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.
She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.
She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.
-by Edna St. Vincent Millay
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.