Safe?

If I but set my casement high Where none peer in at me, I shall look only at the sky And the fair top of the tree.

I shall forget the sorry things The swallows do not tell; I shall not see the wounded wings Of the little bird that fell.

And if below there crawls a road, Where dusty travelers go, Groaning beneath a weary load— Why, I shall never know.

I can pretend there is no sin, No pain and misery, If I gaze out where none look in To read the heart of me.