Page:Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, 1846).djvu/143

Rh She told me, in my youthful days,

How glorious manhood's prime would be.

When, in the time of early Spring,

Too chill the winds that o'er me pass'd,

She said, each coming day would bring

A fairer heaven, a gentler blast.

And when the sun too seldom beamed,

The sky, o'ercast, too darkly frowned,

The soaking rain too constant streamed,

And mists too dreary gathered round;

She told me, Summer's glorious ray

Would chase those vapours all away,

And scatter glories round;

With sweetest music fill the trees,

Load with rich scent the gentle breeze,

And strew with flowers the ground.

But when, beneath that scorching ray,

I languished, weary, through the day,

While birds refused to sing,

Verdure decayed from field and tree,

And panting Nature mourned with me

The freshness of the Spring.

'Wait but a little while,' she said,

'Till Summer's burning days are fled;

And Autumn shall restore,