Xi

She, musingly:

How it was I can not tell, For I know not where nor why; But I know we loved too well In some world that does not lie East or west of where we dwell, And beneath no earthly sky.

Was it in the golden ages?-- Or the iron?--that I heard,-- In the prophecy of sages,-- Haply, how had come a bird, Underneath whose wing were pages Of an unknown lover’s word.

I forget. You may remember How the earthquake shook our ships; How our city, one huge ember, Blazed within the thick eclipse: When you found me--deep December Sealed my icy eyes and lips.

I forget. No one may say That such things can not be true:-- Here a flower dies to-day, There, to-morrow, blooms anew.... Death is silent.--Tell me, pray, Why men doubt what God can do?