Still rumours and incommunicable things : Ruth 

 Waters. an( j sorrow and exile are become loveliness : 

 Helen and that immemorial desire is become 

 our desire, and that phantom beauty is become 

 our dream and our passion. Still Waters 

 surely through that gate the mind may slip 

 away from the tedious and unwelcome, and 

 be alone among forests where the birch leans 

 and dreams into an amber-brown pool, or by 

 a mountain-lake where small white clouds lie 

 like sleeping birds, or on moonlit lagoons 

 where the reed and the reed's image are as 

 one, and the long mirrors are unshaken by 

 any wandering air, unvisited but by the 

 passing soundless shadows of travelling wings. 



264 



