a thought

Where the wall is built in new and is of ivy bare she paused-- then opened and passed through a gate that once was there. The gate to my private loneliness. Where the door is you might not open, and you did ;so enter now, and see for what slight thing, you are not betrayed.... Here is no treasure hid, no cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring...just me alone. For that I must never more behold your face for trust. This now is yours. I shall seek another place. For me and you in a private loneliness for two.