Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/195

Rh XXXII

THE ABSENT ONE

our evening fireside now

Merry laugh and cheerful tone,

Smiling eye and cloudless brow,

Mirth and music all are flown.

Yet the grass before the door

Grows as green in April rain,

And as blithely as of yore

Larks have poured their daylong strain.

Is it fear or is it sorrow

Checks the frequent stream of joy?

Do we tremble that to-morrow

May our present peace destroy?

For past misery are we weeping?

What is past can hurt no more;

And the gracious heavens are keeping

Aid for that which lies before.

One is absent, and for one,

Cheerless, chill is our hearthstone.

One is absent, and for him

Cheeks are pale and eyes are dim.