Though the road is murky,
I am not afraid,
For a shadow passes
On the lighted shade.
Once I knew the sesame
To the closed door;
Now I shall not enter
Any more;
Nor will people passing
By the lit place,
See our shadows marry
In a gray embrace.
Strange a passing shadow
Has a long spell!
What can matter, knowing
She does well?
How can life annoy me
Any more?
Life: a lighted window
And a closed door.
Doors. [Hermann Hagedorn]
Like a young child who to his mother's door
Runs eager for the welcoming embrace,
And finds the door shut, and with troubled face
Calls and through sobbing calls, and o'er and o'er
Calling, storms at the panel — so before
A door that will not open, sick and numb,
I listen for a word that will not come,
And know, at last, I may not enter more.
Silence! And through the silence and the dark
By that closed door, the distant sob of tears
Beats on my spirit, as on fairy shores
The spectral sea; and through the sobbing — hark!
Down the fair-chambered corridor of years,
The quiet shutting, one by one, of doors.
Where Love once was. [James Oppenheim]
Where love once was, let there be no hate:
Though they that went as one by night and day
Go now alone,
Where love once was, let there be no hate.