The breath that is the voice, The silver, the woodwinds speaking, The dear voice of your lover, The hard voice of your foe, And the vast breath of wind, Mysterious over mountains, Caught in pines like a bird Or filling all hammered heaven.

I heard the song of breath, Like a great strand of music, Blown between void and void, Uncorporal as the light. The breath of nations asleep, And the piled hills they sleep in, The word that never was flesh And yet is nothing but life.