Bluebeard Sonnet VI
This door you might not open, and you did; So enter now, and see for what slight thing You are betrayed… Here is no treasure hid, No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain For greed like yours, no writhings of distress, But only what you see… Look yet again— An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless. Yet this alone out of my life I kept Unto myself, lest any know me quite; And you did so profane me when you crept Unto the threshold of this room to-night That I must never more behold your face. This now is yours.
I seek another place.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Other author posts
Thursday
And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you I do not love you Thursday -So much is true And why you come complaining Is more than I can see
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I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over And what did I see I had not seen before Only a question less or a question more; Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying
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April this year, not Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling mud and dingy snow;
Counting-Out Rhyme
Silver bark of beech, and Bark of yellow birch and yellow Twig of willow Stripe of green in moosewood maple, Colour seen in leaf of apple, Bark of popple