Why do we fall in love? I do believe That virtue is the magnet, the small vein Of ore, the spark, the torch that we receive At birth, and that we render back again. That drop of godhood, like a precious stone, May shine the brightest in the tiniest flake. Lavished on saints, to sinners not unknown; In harlot, nun, philanthropist, and rake, It shines for those who love; none else discern Evil from good; Men's fall did not bestow That threatened wisdom; blindly still we yearn After a virtue that we do not know, Until our thirst and longing rise above The barriers of reason—and we love. Alice Duer Miller