The More Loving One

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equally affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am

Of stars that do not give a damn,

I cannot, now I see them, say

I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,

I should learn to look at an empty sky

And feel its total dark sublime

Though this might take me a little time.

September 1957

Copyright Credit: W. H. Auden, "The More Loving One" from Homage to Clio. Copyright © 1960 by The Estate of W. H. Auden. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd. All rights reserved.