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Stars

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun  Restored our Earth to joy,

Have you departed, every one,  And left a desert sky ?

All through the night, your glorious eyes  Were gazing down in mine,

And, with a full heart's thankful sighs,  I blessed that watch divine.

I was at peace, and drank your beams  As they were life to me;

And revelled in my changeful dreams,  Like petrel on the sea.

Thought followed thought, star followed star,  Through boundless regions, on;

While one sweet influence, near and far,  Thrilled through, and proved us one !

Why did the morning dawn to break  So great, so pure, a spell;

And scorch with fire, the tranquil cheek,  Where your cool radiance fell ?

Blood-red, he rose, and, arrow-straight,  His fierce beams struck my brow;

The soul of nature, sprang, elate,  But mine sank sad and low !

My lids closed down, yet through their veil,  I saw him, blazing, still,

And steep in gold the misty dale,  And flash upon the hill.

I turned me to the pillow, then,  To call back night, and see Your worlds of solemn light, again,  Throb with my heart, and me !

It would not do-the pillow glowed,  And glowed both roof and floor;

And birds sang loudly in the wood,  And fresh winds shook the door;

The curtains waved, the wakened flies  Were murmuring round my room,

Imprisoned there, till I should rise,  And give them leave to roam.

Oh, stars, and dreams, and gentle night;  Oh, night and stars return !

And hide me from the hostile light,  That does not warm, but burn;

That drains the blood of suffering men;  Drinks tears, instead of dew;

Let me sleep through his blinding reign,  And only wake with you !

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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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