It is the happy heart that breaks

This (pictured) volume was a present I received last year - I'm always dipping into it and discovering poets I wasn't that familiar with before ...

... here's one from Sara Teasdale, that I particularly like:


Moonlight

It will not hurt me when I am old,
A running tide where moonlight burned
Will not sting me like silver snakes;
The years will make me sad and cold,
It is the happy heart that breaks.

The heart asks more than life can give,
When that is learned, then all is learned;
The waves break fold on jewelled fold,
But beauty itself is fugitive,
It will not hurt me when I am old.

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Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933)

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