Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/252

196 That heart was a tropic sun,

That kindles all it shines upon;

And never Fejian devotee

Gave worship half so warm as I;

And never radiant bow could be

So welcome in a stormy sky.

'My soul dwelt with me day and night,

She was my all-sufficient light;

My childhood's mate, my girlhood's guide,

My only blessing, only Pride.

'But cursèd be the very earth

That gave that friend her fatal birth!

With her own hand she bent the bow,

That laid my best affections low,

Then mocked my grief and scorned my prayers,

And drowned my bloom of youth in tears.

Warnings, reproaches, both were vain;

What recked she of another's pain?

My dearer self she would not spare;

From Honour's voice she turned his ear;

First made her love his only stay,

And then snatched the treacherous prop away.

'Douglas, he pleaded bitterly,

He pleaded, as you plead to me,

For lifelong chains, or timeless tomb,

Or any, but an exile's doom.