This door you might not open, and you did; <br /> So enter now, and see for what slight thing <br />You are betrayed.... Here is no treasure hid, <br /> No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring <br />The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain <br /> For greed like yours, no writhings of distress, <br />But only what you see.... Look yet again-- <br /> An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless. <br />Yet this alone out of my life I kept <br /> Unto myself, lest any know me quite; <br />And you did so profane me when you crept <br /> Unto the threshold of this room to-night <br />That I must never more behold your face. <br /> This now is yours. I seek another place.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-vi-this-door-you-might-not-open/
