We catch a glimpse of it, gaunt and gray,
When the golden sunbeams are all abroad;
We sober a moment, then softly say:
The world still lies in the hand of God.
We watch it stealthily creeping o'er
The threshold leading to somebody's soul;
A shadow, we cry, it cannot be more
When faith is one's portion and Heaven one's goal.
A ghost that comes stealing its way along,
Affrighting the weak with its gruesome air.
But who that is young and glad and strong
Fears for a moment to meet Despair?
To this heart of ours we have thought so bold
All uninvited it comes one day—
Lo! faith grows wan, and love grows cold,
And the heaven of our dreams lies far away.