The Closed Door
BY
MARY BURT MESSER
How you have known her and not known her: in the midst of love unutterably sweet, how you have believed her yours.
She is yours, so much — no more!
Have you never seen that look of hers as she stood poised for a moment, — rapt, inscrutable, saying to love — love even — whither I go you cannot come?
— Unfathomable human soul,
Yielding its tenderness, its pity,
Its perfect and exquisite companionship,
Yielding to the dear ties of earth —
But now as you turn to her,
Touching her brown familiar hair,
Far off — so far that the sound is almost inaudible —
A door is faintly closed.
She is yours, so much — no more!
Have you never seen that look of hers as she stood poised for a moment, — rapt, inscrutable, saying to love — love even — whither I go you cannot come?
— Unfathomable human soul,
Yielding its tenderness, its pity,
Its perfect and exquisite companionship,
Yielding to the dear ties of earth —
But now as you turn to her,
Touching her brown familiar hair,
Far off — so far that the sound is almost inaudible —
A door is faintly closed.