Walter Murdoch (1874–1970). The Oxford Book of Australasian Verse. 1918.

123. Mistrust

YOU look at me with wan, bright eyes

When in the deeper world I stray:

You fear some hidden ambush lies

In wait to call me, “Come away.”

What if I see behind the veil

Your starry self beseeching me,

Or at its stern command grow pale,

“Let her be free, let her be free”?