Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/256

200 At last the sunshine left the ground,

The laden bee flew home,

The deep-down sea with sudden sound

Impelled its waves to foam.

The corse [sic] grew heavy on his arm,

The starry heaven grew dim,

The summer night so mild and warm

Felt wintry chill to him.

A troubled shadow o'er his eye

Came down, and rested there;

The moors and sky went swimming by,

Confused and strange and drear.

He faintly prayed, 'O Death, delay

Thy last fell dart to throw,

Till I can hear my sovereign say

The traitors' heads are low!

'God! guard her life, since not to me

That dearest boon was given;

God! bless her sun with victory,

Or bless not me with heaven!'

Then came the cry of agony,

The pang of parting pain;

And he had overpassed the sea,

That none can pass again.