Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/290

234 VI

something in this glorious hour

That fills the soul with heavenly power,

And dims our eyes with sudden tears

That centre all the joys of years.

For we feel at once that there lingers still,

Like summer's sunshine o'er a hill,

A glory round life's pinnacle;

And we know, though we be yet below,

That we may not always linger so,

For still Ambition beckons on,

Is this a height that may be won?

And Hope still whispers in our ear,

'Others have been—thou mayst be there.'

Land of the west! Thy glorious skies,

Their dreamy depths of azure blue,

Their sunlit isles of paradise,

That float in golden glory through.

These depths of azure o'er my sight

Their musing moments seem to expand,

Revealing all their radiance bright

In cloud and gorgeous land.

Land of the west! thine evening sun

Brings thousand voiceless thoughts to mind

Of what I've said and seen and done

In years by time long left behind;