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Edna St. Vincent Millay - I Will Put Chaos Into Fourteen Lines
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I will put Chaos into fourteen lines
 And keep him there; and let him thence escape
 If he be lucky; let him twist, and ape
 Flood, fire, and demon —- his adroit designs
 Will strain to nothing in the strict confines
 Of this sweet order, where, in pious rape,
 I hold his essence and amorphous shape,
 Till he with Order mingles and combines.
 Past are the hours, the years of our duress,
 His arrogance, our awful servitude:
 I have him. He is nothing more nor less
 Than something simple not yet understood;
 I shall not even force him to confess;
 Or answer. I will only make him good.
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