She.

How it was I can not tell,

For I know not where nor why,

And the beautiful befell

In a land that does not lie

East or West where mortals dwell —

But beneath a vaguer sky.

Was it in the golden ages,

Or the iron, that I heard,

In prophetic speech of sages,

How had come a snowy bird

‘ Neath whose wing lay written 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 on icy eyes and lips.

I forget. No one may say

Pre-existences are true:

Here‘ s a flower dies to-day,

Resurrected blooms anew:

Death is dumb and Life is gray —

Who shall doubt what God can do!