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How Clear She Shines

How clear she shines!

How quietlyI lie beneath her guardian light;

While heaven and earth are whispering me,"To morrow, wake, but dream to-night."Yes,

Fancy, come, my Fairy love!

These throbbing temples softly kiss;

And bend my lonely couch above,

And bring me rest, and bring me bliss.

The world is going; dark world, adieu!

Grim world, conceal thee till the day;

The heart thou canst not all

Must still resist, if thou delay!

Thy love I will not, will not share;

Thy hatred only wakes a smile;

Thy griefs may wound—thy wrongs may tear,

But, oh, thy lies shall ne'er beguile!

While gazing on the stars that

Above me, in that stormless sea,

I long to hope that all the

Creation knows, is held in thee!

And this shall be my dream to-night;

I'll think the heaven of glorious

Is rolling on its course of

In endless bliss, through endless years;

I'll think, there's not one world above,

Far as these straining eyes can see,

Where Wisdom ever laughed at Love,

Or Virtue crouched to Infamy;

Where, writhing 'neath the strokes of Fate,

The mangled wretch was forced to smile;

To match his patience 'gainst her hate,

His heart rebellious all the while.

Where Pleasure still will lead to wrong,

And helpless Reason warn in vain;

And Truth is weak, and Treachery strong;

And Joy the surest path to Pain;

And Peace, the lethargy of Grief;

And Hope, a phantom of the soul;

And life, a labour, void and brief;

And Death, the despot of the whole!

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Emily Jane Bronte

Emily Jane Brontë (30 July 1818 – 19 December 1848) was an English novelist and poet who is best known for her only novel, Wuthering Heights, no…
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