The Solitary


My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
I have less need now than when I was young
To share myself with every comer
Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.

It is one to me that they come or go
If I have myself and the drive of my will,
And strength to climb on a summer night
And watch the stars swarm over the hill.

Let them think I love them more than I do,
Let them think I care, though I go alone;
If it lifts their pride, what is it to me
Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone.


facebook share button twitter share button google plus share button tumblr share button reddit share button email share button

Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add The Solitary to your own personal library.

Return to the Sara Teasdale Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Song For Colin

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.