Bearing two crystal goblets in her hands <br />To a philosopher an Angel came: <br />One wine shone clear as water o’er white sands, <br />One red as flame. <br />“Choose!” said the Angel. “From life’s wine-press flows <br />For all mankind the vintage which I bring. <br />The pale cup holds exemption from life’s woes, <br />The red brings suffering.” <br /> <br />“One wine is colourless,” the dreamer said. <br />“Who suffer keenest nobler joys attain.” <br />And to the dregs drained from the goblet red <br />The draught of pain. <br /> <br />Then spake the Angel: “Thou hast chosen well. <br />What seemeth loss to thee shall prove thy gain. <br />All that is pure, and sweet, and beautiful <br />Is born of pain.”<br /><br />George Essex Evans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-two-goblets/
