Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/66

      Why did it die?
Ask of your soul the reason why!
      Question it well,
And surely the secret it will tell.

      But if your heart
Ever again plays the lover's part,
      Let this truth be
Blent with the solemn mystery:

      Pure flame aspires;
Downward flow not the altar fires;
      And skylarks soar
Up where the earth-mists vex no more.

      Now loose your hold
From her white garment's spotless fold,
      And let her pass—
While both hearts murmur, "Alas! alas!"