'Alone' by Edgar Allan Poe

1

O! I care not that my earthly lot

Hath — little of Earth in it —

That years of love have been forgot

In the fever of a minute —

2

I heed not that the desolate

Are happier, sweet, than I —

But that you meddle with my fate

Who am a passer-by.

3

I heed not that my founts of bliss
Be gushing, oh! with tears
That the tremor of one kiss

Hath palsied many years —

4

‘T is not that the flowers of twenty springs

Which have wither'd as they rose

Lie dead on my heart-strings

With the weight of an age of snows.

5

Nor that the grass — O! may it thrive!

On my grave is growing or grown —

But that, while I am dead and alive

I cannot be, love, alone.