The Secret Place.

I have a chamber barred, Full of strange things, That ever my soul would guard For the soul that sings. The shames that I thought are there, Crimes that I dare not own, Sins that I needs must bear In the dark alone. I have been Nero and God, I have been Satan and Death; And the red things done at my nod Would poison my breath. I dare not speak of them, I dare not yield the key; The juice of the hemlock stem Were milk to me! But I keep them close and barred, The evil things. That ever my should would guard For the soul that sings. I have locked them out of my mind; And I go forth white, With a heart clean and kind Too look on the light. But I will return again Full of the worlds spleen, To open the door of pain When my heart is mean. I will rejoice in my shame, Even as Nero and God; But these things under my name Shall not go abroad. For this is my separate hell. Let it be forever apart Oh, the worlds dew falls well On the sweet of my heart!
David McKee Wright. N.S.W. The Bulletin, 9 December 1920.