English Poetry II: From Collins to Fitzgerald.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
514. One Word is Too Often Profaned
O
For me to profane it,
One feeling too falsely disdain’d
For thee to disdain it.
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And Pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
But wilt thou accept not
And the Heavens reject not:
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?