Page:Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, 1846).djvu/149

Rh One word turned back my gushing tears,

And lit my altered eye with sneers.

Then "Bless the friendly dust," I said,

"That hides thy unlamented head!

Vain as thou wert, and weak as vain,

The slave of Falsehood, Pride, and Pain,—

My heart has nought akin to thine;

Thy soul is powerless over mine."

But these were thoughts that vanished too;

Unwise, unholy, and untrue:

Do I despise the timid deer,

Because his limbs are fleet with fear?

Or, would I mock the wolf's death-howl,

Because his form is gaunt and foul?

Or, hear with joy the leveret's cry,

Because it cannot bravely die?

No! Then above his memory

Let Pity's heart as tender be;

Say, "Earth, lie lightly on that breast,

And, kind Heaven, grant that spirit rest!"

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