Despair

Alone! Alone! No beacon, far or near!

No chart, no compass, and no anchor stay!

Like melting fog the mirage melts away

In all-surround

ing darkness, void and clear. Drifting, I spread vain hands, and vainly peer And vainly call for pilot, — weep and pray; Beyond these limits not the faintest ray Shows distant coast whereto the lost may steer. O what is life, if we must hold it thus As wind-blown sparks hold momentary fire? What are these gifts without the larger boon? O what is art, or wealth, or fame to us Who scarce have time to know what we desire? O what is love, if we must part so soon?