DESPAIR
I
Each flower hath fellow-flowers, and every leaf
May share its grief:
The golden great stars roll in ordered course
And blend their force:
But on his solitary piteous throne
Man sits alone.
2
The skies have not one tender word to say,
Black, red or grey:
The wavelets laugh; their laugh is not for him:
The forests grim
Wake in the morning by the fresh wind blown;
Man stands alone.
3
He hath no share in soulless Nature's glee,
Not in the sea,
Nor in the life of plant nor joy of morn
Nor breeze-bowed corn:
Not in the life of flowers when these resume
Their last year's bloom.
4
Man lives alone beneath heaven's burning cope,
Devoid of hope;
Meeting by night and day, and everywhere,
Gaunt-browed despair,
And knowing only that time must efface
Him and his race.
June 9, 1881.
