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Sara Teasdale

(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933 / Missouri)

New Love and Old


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?

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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