Sara Teasdale

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?