Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/293

Rh VIII

my footsteps find a rest!

O might my eyes with tears run o'er!

O could the wound but leave my breast

To lapse in days that are no more!

And if I could in silence mourn

Apart from lying sympathy,

And man's remarks or sighs or scorn,

I should be where I wish to be.

For nothing nearer paradise

Ought for a moment to be mine:

I've far outlived such real joys—

I could not bear so bright a shine;

For I've been consecrate to grief—

I should not be if that were gone—

And all my prospect of relief

On earth would be to grieve alone!

To live in sunshine now would be

To live in every sweetest thought;

What I have been and seen below

Must first be utterly forgot.

And I can not forget the years

Gone by as if they'd never been;

Yet if I will remember—tears

Must always dim the dreary scene.

So there's no choice. However bright

May beam the blaze of July's sun,

'Twill only yield another sight

Of scenes and times for ever gone.