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.