"Oread" by H.D.

YOUR voice is like bells over roofs at dawn When a bird flies And the sky changes to a fresher color. Speak, speak, Beloved. Say little things For my ears to catch And run with them to my heart.

She has attained the permanence She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning. Untended stalks blow over her Even and swift, like young men running. Always in the heart she loved Others had lived,—she heard their laughter. She lies where none has lain before, Where certainly none will follow after.

There is a heaven, for ever, day by day, The upward longing of my soul doth tell me so. There is a hell, I'm quite as sure; for pray If there were not, where would my neighbours go?

The love of my life came not As love unto others is cast; For mine was a secret wound— But the wound grew a pearl, at last. The divers may come and go, The tides, they arise and fall; The pearl in its shell lies sealed, And the Deep Sea covers all.