A Doubt

If I could fiud a rose without a thorn, A fragrant blossom with uo bitter taste, A day oi suushine with no spot of cloud, A world without a dreary desert waste, Or one bright hope unshadowed and serene, One perfect trust with every fear cast out, My heart could rest upon the promise sweet, Laying aside the ever-present doubt. The shadow dim that falls upon the ring When wedded pairas are clasped in fond embrace; The Bpectre at the banquet, and the guest That silently usurps the higheat place ; The presence all unseen, yet ever near ; The minor note to every joyous strain ; The echoing thrill that answers rapture sweet With something vory near akin to pain. It dims the lustre of the conqueror's sword, And falls upon the radiance of the cross ; No alchemy can purify the gold Beyond the clinging of its ashen dross; It falleth like a mildew on the page Where weary fingers toil tor empty f ame, And on the shiniug scutcheon of the great, Beside the greatest there, it writes lts name.