Friday Poetry: W.H. Auden

I've been reading the gentleman all week, and realizing, as I sometimes do with famous poets, that he genuinely is all he's cracked up to be. Tyromaven turned me onto this partickler poem.

W.H. Auden
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 the stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal 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.