It will not hurt me when I am old, <br />A running tide where moonlight burned <br />Will not sting me like silver snakes; <br />The years will make me sad and cold, <br />It is the happy heart that breaks. <br /> <br />The heart asks more than life can give, <br />When that is learned, then all is learned; <br />The waves break fold on jewelled fold, <br />But beauty itself is fugitive, <br />It will not hurt me when I am old.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/moonlight-2/
