Thy spirit ere our fatal loss
⁠Did ever rise from high to higher;
⁠As mounts the heavenward altar-fire,
As flies the lighter thro' the gross.

But thou art turn'd to something strange,
⁠And I have lost the links that bound
⁠Thy changes; here upon the ground;
No more partaker of thy change.

Deep folly! yet that this could be—
⁠That I could wing my will with might
⁠To leap the grades of life and light,
And flash at once, my friend, to thee:

For though my nature rarely yields
⁠To that vague fear implied in death;
⁠Nor shudders at the gulfs beneath,
The howlings from forgotten fields;