ESCAPE
DEEP pools there are, pools quiet and still,
Far off, where none of them guess;
Beyond the peaks of the world's last hill
And the desert's loneliness.
But all about the edge of those pools
Flutter like troubled birds,
The little gestures you used to use,
And your light, forgotten words.
And when the moon from the purple sky
Makes signs to the silent grass.
Those pools grow charged with your memory,
And I see your image pass.
I see you not as you really are,
But pale as the lately dead,
With a faint marsh-flame like a fallen star
Flickering above your head.
O wild white cheeks, O scarlet mouth!
Is my heart's deep whisper true
That beyond the peaks of the world's last hill,
I can flee the human race at my will
And yet cannot escape from you?
