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1865–1914

She.

Madison Julius Cawein

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!

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She. · Madison Julius Cawein · Poetry Cove