Page:Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, 1846).djvu/158

148 Now go; for at the door there waits

Another stranger guest:

He calls—I come—my pulse scarce beats,

My heart fails in my breast.

Again that voice—how far away,

How dreary sounds that tone!

And I, methinks, am gone astray

In trackless wastes and lone.

I fain would rest a little while:

Where can I find a stay,

Till dawn upon the hills shall smile,

And show some trodden way?

"I come! I come!" in haste she said,

"'Twas Walter's voice I heard!"

Then up she sprang—but fell back, dead,

His name her latest word.

.

STANZAS.

not weep that thou art going to leave me,

There's nothing lovely here;

And doubly will the dark world grieve me,

While thy heart suffers there.