Sara Teasdale’s “Doubt” voices a quiet but real anxiety in intimate, fanciful terms. The speaker tells her beloved that her soul lives inside her body, so he possesses both. But sometimes the soul feels less like his and more like a wild, gay adventurer—a restless, eager ghost she cannot control or predict. She is sure of her body’s faithfulness, yet she wonders what would happen if her soul broke faith with him. The mood is tender and slightly unsettled: the house-and-wraith imagery keeps the poem light, almost playful, while the final question lands with genuine worry. The speaker is not confessing to a planned betrayal. She is admitting that some part of her remains free, wandering, and unknown even to herself, and that uncertainty is exactly what haunts her.
Doubt — Summary
My soul lives in my body's house, And you have both the house and her-- But sometimes she is less your own Than a wild, gay adventurer; A restless and an eager wraith, How can I tell what she will do-- Oh, I am sure of my body's faith, But what if my soul broke faith with you?