The Solitary

My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,

I have less need now than when I was young

To share myself with every comer

Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.

It is one to me that they come or go

If I have myself and the drive of my will,

And strength to climb on a summer night

if I found it And watch the stars swarm over the hill.

Let them think I love them more than I do,

Let them think I care, though I go alone;

If it lifts their pride, what is it to me

Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone.