Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/247

Rh Spring brings the swallow and the lark,

But what will winter bring?

Its twilight hours and evenings dark

To match the gift of spring?

No, look with me o'er that swollen main;

If my spirit's eye can see,

There are brave ships floating back again

That no calm southern port can chain

From Gondal's stormy sea.

Oh! how the hearts of voyagers beat

To feel the frost-wind blow!

What follows in Ula's garden sweet

Is worth one flake of snow.

The blast which almost rends their sail

Is welcome as a friend;

It brings them home, that thundering gale,

Home to their journey's end;

Home to our souls whose wearying sighs

Lament their absence drear;

And oh, how bright even winter skies

Would shine if they were here!