Peder Severin Kroyer, Summer evening at Skagen, 1892
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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Add Moonlight to your library.

Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; Morning

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