DESPAIR.

We catch a glimpse of it, gaunt and gray,

When the golden sunbeams are all abroad;

We sober a moment, then softly say:

The world still lies in the hand of God.

We watch it stealthily creeping o'er

The threshold leading to somebody's soul;

A shadow, we cry, it cannot be more

When faith is one's portion and Heaven one's goal.

A ghost that comes stealing its way along,

Affrighting the weak with its gruesome air,

But who that is young and glad and strong

Fears for a moment to meet Despair?

To this heart of ours we have thought so bold

All uninvited it comes one day —

Lo! faith grows wan, and love grows cold,

And the heaven of our dreams lies far away.