Sara Teasdale

Thoughts

When I am all alone

Envy me most,

Then my thoughts flutter round me

In a glimmering host;


Some dressed in silver,

Some dressed in white,

Each like a taper

Blossoming light;


Most of them merry,

Some of them grave,

Each of them lithe

As willows that wave;


Some bearing violets,

Some bearing bay,

One with a burning rose

Hidden away;


When I am all alone

Envy me then,

For I have better friends

Than women and men.