Farewell
Farewell to thee! but not
To all my fondest thoughts of thee:
Within my heart they still shall dwell;
And they shall cheer and comfort me.
O, beautiful, and full of grace!
If thou hadst never met mine eye,
I had not dreamed a living
Could fancied charms so far outvie.
If I may ne'er behold
That form and face so dear to me,
Nor hear thy voice, still would I
Preserve, for aye, their memory.
That voice, the magic of whose
Can wake an echo in my breast,
Creating feelings that, alone,
Can make my tranced spirit blest.
That laughing eye, whose sunny
My memory would not cherish less; -And oh, that smile! whose joyous
Nor mortal language can express.
Adieu, but let me cherish, still,
The hope with which I cannot part.
Contempt may wound, and coldness chill,
But still it lingers in my heart.
And who can tell but Heaven, at last,
May answer all my thousand prayers,
And bid the future pay the
With joy for anguish, smiles for tears?
Anne Bronte
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The Consolation
Though bleak these woods and damp the With fallen leaves so thickly strewn, And cold the wind that wanders With wild and melancholy moan,
I hoped that with the brave and strong
I hoped, that with the brave and strong, My portioned task might lie; To toil amid the busy throng, With purpose pure and high
Oh they have robbed me of the hope
Oh, they have robbed me of the My spirit held so dear; They will not let me hear that My soul delights to hear
Weep Not Too Much
Weep not too much, my darling; Sigh not too oft for me; Say not the face of Has lost its charm for thee