Faults They came to tell your faults to me, They named them over one by one; I laughed aloud when they were done, I knew them all so well before,-- Oh, they were blind, too blind to see Your faults had made me love you more.
Sara TeasdaleFor I shall learn from flower and leaf, That color every drop they hold, To change the lifeless wine of grief To living gold.
Sara Teasdale