Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/68

14 But they wept not, but they changed not,

Never moved, and never closed;

Troubled still, and still they ranged not—

Wandered not, nor yet reposed!

So I knew that he was dying—

Stooped, and raised his languid head;

Felt no breath, and heard no sighing,

So I knew that he was dead.