Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sonnet 06: Bluebeard

This door you might not open, and you did;
   So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed.... Here is no treasure hid
   No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
   For greed like yours, no writhings of distress
But only what you see.... Look yet again—
   An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
   Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
   Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face. 
   This now is yours. I seek another place.