Desolation Dreamed Of

Desolation dreamed of, though not accomplished,
Set my heart to rocking like a boat in a swell.
To every face I met, I said farewell.

Green rollers breaking white along a clean beach . . . when shall I reach that island?
Gladly, O painted nails and shaven arm-pits, would I see less of you!
Gladly, gladly would I be far from you for a long time, O noise and stench of man!

I said farewell.  Nevertheless,
Whom have I quitted?—which of my possessions do I propose to leave?
Not one.  This feigning to be asleep when wide awake is all the loneliness
I shall ever achieve.