As a voice beneath the millpond sings >From her past the lost June days are woken And wind across the gorse slopes call Through years, where the darkness roars Until with wirl-pool panic heart she looks Out of the looking-glass And sees her standing by her side Closes her soft grey eyes Blurred hurried bliss And the smell of space Vanish through fires Oh save me from the softness of your skin I can see you in the millpond years Quietly singing And her voice across the millpond sings Slow falling days and afternoons Watching each other in the quiet looking-glass While the geese ripple above the moors The leaves turned an vanished with the storms Falling through each others eyes This tortured paradise Her emerald dress And the ivory sheets Like delicate muscles Sleep-walking through shapes that razor blind But I can still see you in the millpond years Quietly singing I can see you there