I turned the key and opened wide the door To enter my deserted¹ room again, Where thro' the long hot months the dust had lain. Was it not lonely when across the floor No step was heard, no sudden song that bore My whole heart upward with a joyous² pain？ Were not the pictures and the volumes fain To have me with them always as before？ But Giorgione's Venus did not deign³ To lift her lids, nor did the subtle smile Of Mona Lisa deepen.Madeleine Still wept against the glory of her hair, Nor did the lovers part their lips the while, But kissed unheeding that I watched them there.