“The More Loving One" by W. H. Auden

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 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.