Classic Poem

In my heart are many chambers through which I wander free;
Some are furnished, some are empty, some are sombre, some are light;
Some are open to all comers, and of some I keep the key,
And I enter in the stillness of the night.

But there's one I never enter,—it is closed to even me!
Only once its door was opened, and it shut forevermore;
And though sounds of many voices gather round it, like a sea,
It is silent, ever silent as the shore.

In that chamber long ago my love's casket was concealed,
And the jewel that it sheltered I knew only one could win;
And my soul foreboded sorrow, should that jewel be revealed,
And I almost hoped that none might enter in.

Yet day and night I lingered by that fatal chamber door,
Till—she came at last, my darling one, of all the earth my own;
And she entered—and she vanished with my jewel, which she wore;
And the door was closed—and I was left alone.

She gave me back no jewel, but the spirit of her eyes
Shone with tenderness a moment, as she closed that chamber door,
And the memory of that moment is all I have to prize—
But that, at least, is mine forevermore.

Was she conscious, when she took it, that the jewel was my love?
Did she think it but a bauble she might wear or toss aside?
I know not, I accuse not, but I hope that it may prove
A blessing, though she spurn it in her pride.