Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/131

Rh XIV

of delight, with sun-bright hair,

And sea-blue, sea-deep eyes!

Spirit of bliss! what brings thee here,

Beneath these sullen skies?

Thou shouldst live in eternal spring,

Where endless day is never dim;

Why, Seraph has thine erring wing

Wafted thee down to weep with him?

'Ah! from heaven am I descended,

Nor do I come to mingle tears;

But sweet is day, though with shadows blended;

And, though clouded, sweet are youthful years.

'I—the image of light and gladness—

Saw and pitied that mournful boy,

And I vowed—if need were—to share his sadness,

And give to him my sunny joy.

'Heavy and dark the night is closing;

Heavy and dark may its bidding be:

Better for all from grief reposing,

And better for all who watch like me—