LAMP of my life, the lips of Death br Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath; br Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . . br Love, must I dwell in the living dark? br br br Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot br Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root; br Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . . br Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead? br br br Life of my life, Death's bitter sword br Hath severed us like a broken word, br Rent us in twain who are but one . .