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O Beauty

Sara Teasdale

O Beauty, out of many a cup
You have made me drunk and wild
Ever since I was a child,
But when have I been sure as now

That no bitterness can bend
And no sorrow wholly bow
One who loves you to the end?
And though I must give my breath

And my laughter all to death,
And my eyes through which joy came,
And my heart, a wavering flame;
If all must leave me and go back

Along a blind and fearful track
So that you can make anew,
Fusing with intenser fire,
Something nearer your desire;

If my soul must go alone
Through a cold infinity,
Or even if it vanish, too,
Beauty, I have worshipped you.

Let this single hour atone
For the theft of all of me.

Flame and Shadow

Home :: Poetry :: Love (5) :: O Beauty

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