Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/285

Rh III

, deeply I've drunk of thy woe;

When thy stream was troubled, did mine calmly flow?

And yet I repent not; I'd crush thee again

If our vessels sailed adverse on life's stormy main.

But listen! The earth is our campaign of war,

Her children are rank and her kingdom's spread far.

Who shall say Hah! to the mingling star?

Is there not havoc and carnage for thee

Unless thou couchest thy lance at me?

The heart in my bosom beats high at the thought

Of the deeds which by blended strength may be wrought.

Then might thy Mary bloom blissfully still,

This hand should ne'er work her sorrow or ill,

No fear of grief in her bright eyes should quiver;

I'd love her and guard her for ever and ever.

What! shall Zamorna go down to the dead

With blood on his hand that he wept to have shed?

What! shall they carve on his tomb with the sword

The slayer of Percy, the scourge of the Lord?

Bright flashed the fire in the young Duke's eye

As he spoke in the tones of the trumpet swelling;

Then he stood still and watched earnestly

How these tones were on Percy's spirit telling;