The Yielding Key

I

The door unto my heart is locked.

O woeful lock, where is thy key?

Thou tauntst me, enigmatic fiend:

Thy nature is a mystery.

 

One day when thou are sleeping well,

or weak or faint, not mine the choice,

I will take thou, use a spell

and turn thou, key; I shall rejoice.

 

I do not heed what people say

that thou unyielding shall not turn

for what yields to me that I may

unlock the luxuries that brightly burn?

 

And furthermore which keys hath choice?

The people are all fools.

I, desperate, wanting to rejoice,

Shall gaze at my own jewels.