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.