Sara Teasdale: Old Love and New

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
Dark 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?

Public Domain. Originally published in Poetry, March 1914.

Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933) was an American lyric poet.  She won a Pulitzer Prize for her 1917 poetry collection Love Songs.