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;