Page:Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, 1846).djvu/112

102 Eight months are gone, the summer sun

Sets in a glorious sky;

A quiet field, all green and lone,

Receives its rosy dye.

Jane sits upon a shaded stile,

Alone she sits there now;

Her head rests on her hand the while,

And thought o'ercasts her brow.

She's thinking of one winter's day,

A few short months ago,

When Emma's bier was borne away

O'er wastes of frozen snow.

She's thinking how that drifted snow

Dissolved in spring's first gleam,

And how her sister's memory now

Fades, even as fades a dream.

The snow will whiten earth again,

But Emma comes no more;

She left, 'mid winter's sleet and rain,

This world for Heaven's far shore.

On Beulah's hills she wanders now,

On Eden's tranquil plain;

To her shall Jane hereafter go,

She ne'er shall come to Jane!

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