Your Name: Your E-mail: Friends Name: Friends E-mail: a Poem: I am in love with him To whom a hyacinth is dearer Than 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. /By: Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)/ Message: Found on this website: