 | Poems |  |
DESPAIR.
The goaded soul will madly try
Distracted from its woes to fly—
Try every slenderest hope in vain;
The blasting sense returns again,
The sense of utter helplessness—
Till, wearied with its wild distress,
It sinks beneath the barren blight
Of dark Despair's o'ershadowing might!
Distracted from its woes to fly—
Try every slenderest hope in vain;
The blasting sense returns again,
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Till, wearied with its wild distress,
It sinks beneath the barren blight
Of dark Despair's o'ershadowing might!
A bitter calm—unlike the roar
The fierce waves madly made before,
While o'er them yet the vessel bore;
But like the waters settling dark
And silent o'er the sinking bark!
The fierce waves madly made before,
While o'er them yet the vessel bore;
But like the waters settling dark
And silent o'er the sinking bark!
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