Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/291

Rh And forms and faces lost for ever

Seem arising round me now

As if to bid farewell for ever

Before my spirit go.

Oh! how they gush upon my heart

And overflow my eyes.

I must not keep, I cannot part

With such wild sympathies.

I know it's called a sin and shame

To mourn o'er what I mourn.

Aware her last hour approaching fast,

Upon her dying bed she lies;

Are her wild dreams of western skies,

The shallow wrecks of memories

That glitter through the gloom

Cast o'er them in the cold decay

Which signs the sickening soul away

To meet its early tomb?

What pleasant airs upon her face

With freshening fondness play,

As they would kiss each transient grace

Before it fades away!

And backward rolled each deep red fold,

Begilt with tasselled cords of gold,

The open arch displays;

O'er bower and trees that orb divine

His own unclouded lights decline

Before her glistening gaze.