The beautiful American word, Sure, <br />As I have come into a room, and touch <br />The lamp's button, and the light blooms with such <br />Certainty where the darkness loomed before, <br /> <br />As I care for what I do not know, and care <br />Knowing for little she might not have been, <br />And for how little she would be unseen, <br />The intercourse of lives miraculous and dear. <br /> <br />Where the light is, and each thing clear, <br />separate from all others, standing in its place, <br />I drink the time and touch whatever's near, <br /> <br />And hope for day when the whole world has that face: <br />For what assures her present every year? <br />In dark accidents the mind's sufficient grace.<br /><br />Delmore Schwartz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-beautiful-american-word-sure/
