Despondency.

A Response to "Courage," by Celia Thaxter.     You have said that there is not a fear     Or a doubt that oppresses your soul,         That your faith is so strong         That it bears you along,     Ever holding you in its control.     'Tis a comfort to know there is one     Whose allegiance cannot be denied,         But I fain would enquire,         (For your faith is far high'r     Than is mine): Have you ever been tried?     Have you sought to aspire to a life     Higher far than the one that is past?         Have you laboured through years,         By your hopes crushing fears,     But to meet disappointment at last?     Have the friends who should love you the best,     In your absence forgotten that love,         And refused to impart         To your grief-stricken heart     All the solace their kindness would prove?     Has the world misconstrued your intents,     And endeavoured to sully your fame?         Has the venomous tongue         With its calumny stung     Your proud heart, and dishonoured your name?     I desire not to "chide" you nor "vex,"     But I ask you to answer me now;         Did the torturing pain         Of a love that is vain     Ever furrow your heart like a plough?     Have you loved with so fervent a love     That, when failure and hopelessness came,         All the torments of hell         In your breast seemed to dwell,     Scorching courage and faith in their flame?     One of these may have fall'n to your lot;     What if all were apportioned to me?         Could I then "lift my head,"         Nor a single tear shed?--     Has such faith been allotted to thee?     I have sought to be true to my God,     I have sought to be faithful as you;         But such "tumult and strife"         Have embittered my life     That I am not so faultlessly true.