FROM THE POETRY SHELF1920

Alone

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.

Collection and author context

The linked Project Gutenberg text places this poem in Flame and Shadow (1920). Teasdale’s biography and the linked Academy of American Poets and Poetry Foundation profiles provide further context for her lyric poetry and published collections.

Source text: Flame and Shadow (1920) · Project Gutenberg. Further reading: all poems by Sara Teasdale · Academy of American Poets: Sara Teasdale · Poetry Foundation: Sara Teasdale.

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