AMBITION
Now to my lips lift thou some opiate
Of dull forgetfulness! while in thy gaze
Still lures the loveless beauty that betrays,
And in thy mouth the music that is hate.
No promise more hast thou to make me wait;
No smile to cozen my sick heart with praise!
Far, far behind thee stretch laborious days,
And far before thee, labors soon and late.
Thine is the fen-fire that we deem a star,
Flying before us, ever fugitive,
Thy mocking policy still holds afar:
And thine the voice to which our longings give
Hope’s siren face, that speaks us sweet and fair,
Only at last to whelm us with despair.
DESPONDENCY
Not all the bravery that day puts on
Of gold and azure, ardent or austere,
Shall ease my soul of sorrow; grief, more dear
Than all the joy that heavenly hope may don.
Far up the skies the rumor of the dawn
May run, and eve like some wild torch appear;
These shall not change the darkness, gathered here,
Of thought that rusts like an old sword undrawn.
Oh, for a place far-sunken from the sun!
A wildwood cave of primitive rocks and moss!
Where Sleep and Silence—breast to married breast—
Lie with their child, night-eyed Oblivion;
Where, freed from all the burden of my cross,
I might forget, I might forget—and rest!
DESPAIR
Shut in with phantoms of life’s hollow hopes,
And shadows of old sins satiety slew,
And the young ghosts of the dead dreams love knew,
Out of the day into the night she gropes.
Behind her, high the silvered summit slopes
Of hope and faith, she will not turn to view;
But towards the cave of heartbreak, harsh of hue,
She goes, where all the dropsied horror ropes.
There is a voice of waters in her ears,
And on her brow a wind that never dies:
One is the anguish of desired tears;
One is the sorrow of unuttered sighs;
And, burdened with the immemorial years,
Downward she goes with never lifted eyes.