I am shut out of mine own heartbecause my love is far from me,nor in the wonders have I partthat fill its hidden empery:
the wildwood of adventurous thoughtand lands of dawn my dream had won,the riches out of Faery broughtare buried with our bridal sun.
And I am in a narrow place,and all its little streets are cold,because the absence of her facehas robb'd the sullen air of gold.
My home is in a broader day:at times I catch it glisteningthro' the dull gate, a flower'd playand odour of undying spring:
the long days that I lived alone,sweet madness of the springs I miss'd,are shed beyond, and thro' them blownclear laughter, and my lips are kiss'd:
--and here, from mine own joy apart,I wait the turning of the key:--I am shut out of mine own heartbecause my love is far from me.
