Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/250

194 Yet love was ever at her feet

In his most burning mood;

That love, which will the wicked greet

As kindly as the good.

And he was noble too, who bowed

So humbly by her side;

Entreating, till his eyes o'erflowed,

Her spirits icy proud.

'Angelica, from my very birth

I have been nursed in strife;

And lived upon this weary Earth

A wanderer, all my life.

'The baited tiger could not be

So much athirst for gore,

For men and laws have tortured me,

Till I can bear no more.

'The guiltless blood upon my hands

Will shut me out from heaven,

And here, and even in foreign lands,

I cannot find a haven.

'And in all space and in all clime,

And through eternity,

To aid a spirit lost in crime,

I have no hope but thee.