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1884–1933

Alone

Sara Teasdale

I am alone, in spite of love, In spite of all I take and give — In spite of all your tenderness, Sometimes I am not glad to live.

I am alone, as though I stood On the highest peak of the tired gray world, About me only swirling snow, Above me, endless space unfurled;

With earth hidden and heaven hidden, And only my own spirit's pride To keep me from the peace of those Who are not lonely, having died.

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Alone · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove