I said: for ever and for ever, must I follow you through the stones? I catch at you -- you lurch: you are quicker than my hand-grasp. I wondered at you. I shouted -- dear -- mysterious -- beautiful -- white myrtle-flesh. I was splintered and torn: the hill-path mounted swifter than my feet. Could a daemon avenge this hurt, I would cry to him -- could a ghost, I would shout -- O evil, follow this god, taunt him with his evil and his vice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXISTING POOL by HAYDEN CARRUTH BEFORE DAWN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SORROWING LOVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD BEFORE THE FLOWERS OF FRIENDSHIP FADED FADED: 21 by GERTRUDE STEIN |