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1884–1933

New Love and Old

Sara Teasdale

In my heart the old love Struggled with the new; It was ghostly waking All night through.

Dear things, kind things, That my old love said, Ranged themselves reproachfully Round my bed.

But I could not heed them, For I seemed to see The eyes of my new love Fixed on me.

Old love, old love, How can I be true? Shall I be faithless to myself Or to you?

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New Love and Old · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove