I turned the key and opened wide the door <br />To enter my deserted room again, <br />Where thro' the long hot months the dust had lain. <br />Was it not lonely when across the floor <br />No step was heard, no sudden song that bore <br />My whole heart upward with a joyous pain? <br />Were not the pictures and the volumes fain <br />To have me with them always as before? <br />But Giorgione's Venus did not deign <br />To lift her lids, nor did the subtle smile <br />Of Mona Lisa deepen. Madeleine <br />Still wept against the glory of her hair, <br />Nor did the lovers part their lips the while, <br />But kissed unheeding that I watched them there.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-return-3/
