Page:Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, 1846).djvu/82

72 Gilbert has reasoned with his mind—

He says 'twas all a dream;

He strives his inward sight to blind

Against truth's inward beam.

He pitied not that shadowy thing,

When it was flesh and blood;

Nor now can pity's balmy spring

Refresh his arid mood.

"And if that dream has spoken truth,"

Thus musingly he says;

"If Elinor be dead, in sooth,

Such chance the shock repays:

A net was woven round my feet,

I scarce could further go,

Ere Shame had forced a fast retreat,

Dishonour brought me low."

"Conceal her, then, deep, silent Sea,

Give her a secret grave!

She sleeps in peace, and I am free,

No longer Terror's slave:

And homage still, from all the world,

Shall greet my spotless name,

Since surges break and waves are curled

Above its threatened shame."