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.
About the Poem
Most of us have, at one time or another, loved someone more than they loved us. It may have been a crush that was never returned, a relationship that slowly faded, or simply an admiration that remained one-sided. Those experiences can leave us feeling embarrassed or even foolish, as though loving deeply were somehow a weakness.
W. H. Auden offers a different perspective.
He imagines the stars as beautiful, distant, and completely indifferent to us. They neither know nor care that we spend our nights gazing at them. Yet we continue to marvel at their beauty. We do not expect the stars to love us in return. So why should we believe that every human affection must always be perfectly balanced?
The heart of the poem is one of the most beautiful lines Auden ever wrote:
“If equal affection cannot be, / Let the more loving one be me.”
At first glance, it sounds almost heartbreaking. But I don’t think Auden is encouraging us to become doormats or to remain trapped in unhealthy relationships. Instead, he is recognizing that love is never a competition to see who gives exactly fifty percent. Love is a gift freely offered. If we only choose to love when we are guaranteed an equal return, then our love is really a transaction.
As a gay man, I also hear something else in these words. For many LGBTQ+ people, especially those of earlier generations, first loves often existed only in silence. We admired classmates, coworkers, neighbors, or friends who never knew how we felt—or who could never return those feelings. Loving from a distance was, for many of us, a painful but familiar experience.
Yet those loves were not meaningless simply because they were unreturned. They helped shape us. They taught us compassion, patience, and empathy. They prepared us for the day when we would finally find someone capable of loving us back.
The final stanza reminds us that even if the stars disappeared, life would go on. We would grieve their loss, but eventually we would learn to appreciate even an empty sky. Healing does not erase love. It teaches us that our capacity to love survives disappointment.
The greatest risk in life is not loving too much. It is allowing disappointment to convince us never to love again.
“The More Loving One” was first published in W. H. Auden’s 1957 collection Homage to Clio. Like much of Auden’s later poetry, it combines philosophical reflection with conversational language. Rather than writing a traditional romantic poem, Auden uses the stars as an extended metaphor for beauty, admiration, and emotional imbalance.
The poem asks whether love must always be reciprocal to have value. Auden ultimately suggests that it does not. Loving another person—even when that love is not fully returned—is not a failure but an expression of generosity and humanity.
The final stanza shifts from longing to acceptance. The speaker acknowledges that loss would be painful but also believes that the human heart possesses an extraordinary capacity to heal and continue finding beauty in the world.
About the Poet
W. H. Auden (1907–1973) was one of the most influential English-language poets of the twentieth century. Born in England, he later became an American citizen and wrote extensively on love, faith, politics, psychology, and the human condition. His poetry ranges from highly intellectual meditations to deeply personal reflections, often blending formal structure with everyday speech.
Auden was also one of the most prominent openly gay literary figures of his era. Although society often forced LGBTQ+ people into secrecy during much of his lifetime, his experiences informed many of his reflections on love, longing, intimacy, and belonging. His longtime relationship with poet Chester Kallman was complex but enduring, and themes of imperfect love frequently appear throughout his later work.
More than fifty years after his death, Auden’s poetry continues to speak to readers because it embraces life’s ambiguities. Rather than offering easy answers, he reminds us that love is worthwhile not because it is always returned, but because it reveals the very best of what it means to be human.
Joe
The Closet Professor 