If I would help the weak, I must be fed
In wit and purpose, pour away despair
And rinse the cup, eat happiness like bread.

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892–1950) American poet

Poem (1940), “I must not die of pity; I must live,” ll. 12-14, Make Bright the Arrows, ch. 5 “Sonnets,” No. 6
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