The Heart's House

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by Sara Teasdale

My heart is but a little house
With room for only three or four,
And it was filled before you knocked
⁠Upon the door.

I longed to bid you come within,
I knew that I should love you well,
But if you came the rest must go
⁠Elsewhere to dwell.

For you would never be content
With just a corner in my room,
Yea, if you came the rest must go
⁠Into the gloom.

And so, farewell, O friend, my friend!
Nay, I could weep a little too,
But I shall only smile and say
⁠Farewell to you.

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