Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/243

Rh And glorious is the gladsome rise

Of June's rejoicing morn;

And who with unregretful eyes

Can watch the lustre leave its skies

To twilight's shade forlorn?

Then art thou not my golden June,

All mist and tempest free?

As shines earth's sun in summer noon

So heaven's sun shines in thee.

Let others seek its beams divine

In cell and cloister drear;

But I have found a fairer shrine

And happier worship here.

By dismal rites they win their bliss,

By penance, fasts and fears;

I have one rite—a gentle kiss;

One penance—tender tears.

O could it thus for ever be,

That I might so adore;

I'd ask for all eternity,

To make a paradise for me,

My love and nothing more.