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1868–1950

THE DOOR

Edgar Lee Masters

This is the room that thou wast ushered in. Wouldst thou, perchance, a larger freedom win? Wouldst thou escape for deeper or no breath? There is no door but death.

Do shadows crouch within the mocking light? Stand thou! but if thy terrored heart takes flight Facing maimed Hope and wide-eyed Nevermore, There is no less one door.

Dost thou bewail love's end and friendship's doom, The dying fire, drained cup, and gathering gloom? Explore the walls, if thy soul ventureth — There is no door but death.

There is no window. Heaven hangs aloof Above the rents within the stairless roof. Hence, soul, be brave across the ruined floor — Who knocks? Unbolt the door!

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THE DOOR · Edgar Lee Masters · Poetry Cove