Happiness, to some, elation;
Is, to others, mere stagnation.
Days of passive somnolence,
At its wildest, indolence.
Hours of empty quietness,
No delight, and no distress.
Happiness to me is wine,
Effervescent, superfine.
Full of tang and fiery pleasure,
Far too hot to leave me leisure
For a single thought beyond it.
Drunk! Forgetful! This the bond: it
Means to give one’s soul to gain
Life’s quintessence. Even pain
Pricks to livelier living, then
Wakes the nerves to laugh again,
Rapture’s self is three parts sorrow.
Although we must die to-morrow,
Losing every thought but this;
Torn, triumphant, drowned in bliss.
Happiness: We rarely feel it.
I would buy it, beg it, steal it,
Pay in coins of dripping blood
For this one transcendent good.
(Amy Lowell)
More Poetry from Amy Lowell:
Amy Lowell Poems based on Topics: Sadness, Happiness, Wine, Pleasure, Self- Towns in Colour (Amy Lowell Poems)
- Lilacs (Amy Lowell Poems)
- The Swans (Amy Lowell Poems)
- Twenty-Four Hokku On A Modern Theme (Amy Lowell Poems)
- Stravinsky's (Amy Lowell Poems)
- Diya (Amy Lowell Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Happiness Poems, Pleasure Poems, Wine Poems, Self PoemsBased on Keywords: leisure, forgetful, quietness, transcendent, livelier, indolence, superfine, elation, tang, pricks, quintessence