The WAY I read thy letter is this -
With a locked iron door,
Chains off my wrist,
Laid on the chamber floor.

And then I am Serene,
To counteract a knock -
Never to be seen,
Never to pick the lock.

My eyes drift to the wall,
Upon the glooming clock,
For when I hear a call -
My love ship must dock.

Here in Serene I shall rot,
To the delights you know!
And sob for lack of Heaven - but not
The Heaven thou bestow.