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.