The Lost Secret


We come from a spirit dwelling,
And the young soul clear,
With knowledge and memories welling,
Scarce resteth here:
Till the Lethe of Reason it drinketh,
And into the world it sinketh
To doubt and fear.
We hie to a spirit dwelling,
The soul gross grown,
And with the death-bell’s knelling
The past hath flown;
Who drinketh the pledging potion
Launcheth on God’s dark ocean,
His course unknown.