Poems (Kennedy)/The Cup

by Sara Beaumont Kennedy

THE CUP

YEA, it is bitter; did you think to find
    It was all sweet?
The Marah-taste is in each liquid drop
    Your lips must meet.

For you are part of human woe and weal,
    And you must drain—
Down to the leaden lees that drug the draught—
    The cup of pain.

Nor must you seek to put it by; that were
    The coward's part;
Your lips may tremble as you drink, but brave
    Must be your heart.

But know this for a truth: or crystal clear
    Or warm wine-red,
Christ quaffed the self same cup in ages past;
    Therefore be comforted.

No bitterer for you the draught prescribed
    Than that for Him;
And know, that where his pale lips touched, He left
    A blessing on the rim.

A blessing that your sorrow-clouded eyes
    Have not yet read,
But it will be revealed in years to come.—Drink,
    And be comforted.