Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/143

Rh It sought the arch of heaven divine,

The pure blue heaven with clouds of gold;

It sought thy father's home and mine

As I remembered it of old.

Oh, even now too horribly

Come back the feelings that would swell,

When with my face hid on my knee,

I strove the bursting groans to quell.

I flung myself upon the stone;

I howled, and tore my tangled hair;

And then, when the first gust had flown,

Lay in unspeakable despair.

Sometimes a curse, sometimes a prayer,

Would quiver on my parchèd tongue;

But both without a murmur there

Died in the breast from whence they sprung.

And so the day would fade on high,

And darkness quench that lonely beam,

And slumber mould my misery

Into some strange and spectral dream,

Whose phantom horrors made me know

The worst extent of human woe.

But this is past, and why return

O'er such a path to brood and mourn?

Shake off the fetters, break the chain,

And live and love and smile again.