III. Lessons

By Sara Teasdale

Unless I learn to ask no help

From any other soul but mine,

To seek no strength in waving reeds

Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;

Unless I learn to look at Grief

Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,

And take from Pleasure fearlessly

Whatever gifts will make me wise —

Unless I learn these things on earth,

Why was I ever given birth?