The Secret Room

By George Sterling

No sun therein, no beam of star,
    Hath use a little in its air;
No hand hath found the hidden bar,
    Nor footfall hurt the silence there.

The room is lost, the door is sealed,
    The sword upon the wall is rust;
The rayless lamp hangs unrevealed
    To midnight and the accepted dust.

No hand remains that holds the key,
    Nor is there any sign to tell
Who dreamt therein what could not be,
    Nor what the exiled dream befell;

Save that a dead rose evermore
    Is parted from the twilight's tears—
Whose petals on the estranging floor
    Grow dimmer with the tacit years.

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