Memory

I     I nursed it in my bosom while it lived,         I hid it in my heart when it was dead;     In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved         Alone and nothing said.     I shut the door to face the naked truth,         I stood alone - I faced the truth alone,     Stripped bare of self-regard or forms or ruth         Till first and last were shown.     I took the perfect balances and weighed;         No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise;     Weighed, found it wanting: not a word I said,         But silent made my choice.     None know the choice I made; I make it still.         None know the choice I made and broke my heart,     Breaking mine idol: I have braced my will         Once, chosen for once my part.     I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold,         Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live.     My heart dies inch by inch; the time grows old,         Grows old in which I grieve.     II     I have a room whereinto no one enters         Save I myself alone:         There sits a blessed memory on a throne,     There my life centres.     While winter comes and goes - oh tedious comer! -         And while its nip-wind blows;         While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose     Of lavish summer.     If any should force entrance he might see there         One buried yet not dead,         Before whose face I no more bow my head     Or bend my knee there;     But often in my worn life's autumn weather         I watch there with clear eyes,         And think how it will be in Paradise     When we're together.