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?
