That she too must away. But she was Daniel’s,
Berrien’s; she was not of any company,
Wandering, like this one. She had come
Alone to them, in May, and she would go—
Would go, said Daniel, taking her dream body,
Her beautiful dream body, that was his,
Was his alone.
And suddenly his sadness
Doubled. For the singer had left living
None of his sweet hope. Dora was gone,