Sara Teasdale — Dust

When I went to look at what had long been hidden,        &nbsp A jewel laid long ago in a secret place, I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire—        &nbsp But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face. I almost gave my life long ago for a thing        &nbsp That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes— It is strange how often a heart must be broken        &nbsp Before the years can make it wise.