Last Words
I knew not 'twas so dire a
To say the word, "Adieu;"But this shall be the only
My lips or heart shall sue.
That wild hill-side, the winter morn,
The gnarled and ancient tree,
If in your breast they waken scorn,
Shall wake the same in me.
I can forget black eyes and brows,
And lips of falsest charm,
If you forget the sacred
Those faithless lips could form.
If hard commands can tame your love,
Or strongest walls can hold,
I would not wish to grieve aboveA thing so false and cold.
And there are bosoms bound to
With links both tried and strong:
And there are eyes whose lightning
Has warmed and blest me long:
Those eyes shall make my only day,
Shall set my spirit free,
And chase the foolish thoughts
That mourn your memory.
Emily Jane Bronte
Other author posts
Loud without the wind was roaring
Loud without the wind was Through th'autumnal sky; Drenching wet, the cold rain pouring, Spoke of winter nigh
Song
The linnet in the rocky dells, The moor-lark in the air, The bee among the heather That hide my lady fair:
Moonlight summer moonlight
'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, But most where trees are sending Their breezy boughs on high,
The Old Stoic
Riches I hold in light esteem, And love I laugh to scorn; And lust of fame was but a That vanish'd with the morn: