Sara Teasdale's "Alone" is a dark poem in which the speaker demonstrates one aspect of the human condition. One human being cannot meld with other human beings. Technically, we are always alone. No matter what love she experiences, no matter what she gives and receives, the speaker is still alone. Even with another's "tenderness" the speaker is still alone. She feels as if she is on a mountain top, alone. With earth and heaven hidden, she has only her "spirit's pride."
The speaker longs for the peace the dead feel. Sometimes she is not "glad to live." Again, it is a dark poem, a poem of depression and hopelessness.
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