Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) (414 page)

Read Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) Online

Authors: CHARLOTTE BRONTE,EMILY BRONTE,ANNE BRONTE,PATRICK BRONTE,ELIZABETH GASKELL

BOOK: Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated)
7.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
The mangled wretch was forced to smile;
To match his patience ‘gainst her hate,
His heart rebellious all the while.
Where Pleasure still will lead to wrong,
And helpless Reason warn in vain;
And Truth is weak, and Treachery strong;
And Joy the surest path to Pain;
And Peace, the lethargy of Grief;
And Hope, a phantom of the soul;
And life, a labour, void and brief;
And Death, the despot of the whole!

 

 

 

 

SYMPATHY.

 
 
There should be no despair for you
While nightly stars are burning;
While evening pours its silent dew,
And sunshine gilds the morning.
There should be no despair — though tears
May flow down like a river:
Are not the best beloved of years
Around your heart for ever?
 
They weep, you weep, it must be so;
Winds sigh as you are sighing,
And winter sheds its grief in snow
Where Autumn’s leaves are lying:
Yet, these revive, and from their fate
Your fate cannot be parted:
Then, journey on, if not elate,
Still, NEVER broken-hearted!

 

 

 

 

PLEAD FOR ME.

 
 
Oh, thy bright eyes must answer now,
When Reason, with a scornful brow,
Is mocking at my overthrow!
Oh, thy sweet tongue must plead for me
And tell why I have chosen thee!
 
Stern Reason is to judgment come,
Arrayed in all her forms of gloom:
Wilt thou, my advocate, be dumb?
No, radiant angel, speak and say,
Why I did cast the world away.
 
Why I have persevered to shun
The common paths that others run;
And on a strange road journeyed on,
Heedless, alike of wealth and power —
 
Of glory’s wreath and pleasure’s flower.
 
These, once, indeed, seemed Beings Divine;
And they, perchance, heard vows of mine,
And saw my offerings on their shrine;
But careless gifts are seldom prized,
And MINE were worthily despised.
 
So, with a ready heart, I swore
To seek their altar-stone no more;
And gave my spirit to adore
Thee, ever-present, phantom thing —
 
My slave, my comrade, and my king.
 
A slave, because I rule thee still;
Incline thee to my changeful will,
And make thy influence good or ill:
A comrade, for by day and night
Thou art my intimate delight, —
 
My darling pain that wounds and sears,
And wrings a blessing out from tears
By deadening me to earthly cares;
And yet, a king, though Prudence well
Have taught thy subject to rebel
 
And am I wrong to worship where
Faith cannot doubt, nor hope despair,
Since my own soul can grant my prayer?
Speak, God of visions, plead for me,
And tell why I have chosen thee!

 

 

 

 

SELF-INTEROGATION,

 
 
“The evening passes fast away.
‘Tis almost time to rest;
What thoughts has left the vanished day,
What feelings in thy breast?
 
“The vanished day?
 
It leaves a sense
Of labour hardly done;
Of little gained with vast expense —
 
A sense of grief alone?
 
“Time stands before the door of Death,
Upbraiding bitterly
And Conscience, with exhaustless breath,
Pours black reproach on me:
 
“And though I’ve said that Conscience lies
And Time should Fate condemn;
Still, sad Repentance clouds my eyes,
And makes me yield to them!
 
“Then art thou glad to seek repose?
Art glad to leave the sea,
And anchor all thy weary woes
In calm Eternity?
 
“Nothing regrets to see thee go —
 
Not one voice sobs’ farewell;’
And where thy heart has suffered so,
Canst thou desire to dwell?”
 
“Alas! the countless links are strong
That bind us to our clay;
The loving spirit lingers long,
And would not pass away!
 
“And rest is sweet, when laurelled fame
Will crown the soldier’s crest;
But a brave heart, with a tarnished name,
Would rather fight than rest.
 
“Well, thou hast fought for many a year,
Hast fought thy whole life through,
Hast humbled Falsehood, trampled Fear;
What is there left to do?
 
“‘Tis true, this arm has hotly striven,
Has dared what few would dare;
Much have I done, and freely given,
But little learnt to bear!
 
“Look on the grave where thou must sleep
Thy last, and strongest foe;
It is endurance not to weep,
If that repose seem woe.
 
“The long war closing in defeat —
 
Defeat serenely borne, —
 
Thy midnight rest may still be sweet,
And break in glorious morn!”

 

 

 

 

DEATH.

 
 
Death! that struck when I was most confiding.
In my certain faith of joy to be —
 
Strike again, Time’s withered branch dividing
From the fresh root of Eternity!
 
Leaves, upon Time’s branch, were growing brightly,
Full of sap, and full of silver dew;
Birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;
Daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.
 
Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;
Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride
But, within its parent’s kindly bosom,
Flowed for ever Life’s restoring tide.
 
Little mourned I for the parted gladness,
For the vacant nest and silent song —
 
Hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;
Whispering, “Winter will not linger long!”
 
And, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,
Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;
Wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing,
Lavished glory on that second May!
 
High it rose — no winged grief could sweep it;
Sin was scared to distance with its shine;
Love, and its own life, had power to keep it
From all wrong — from every blight but thine!

Other books

Truth or Dare by Matt Nicholson
Prohibition by Terrence McCauley
Nakoa's Woman by Gayle Rogers
B004QGYWKI EBOK by Vargas Llosa, Mario
The Heart of Hell by Alen Mattich
PathFinder by Angie Sage
Trading Rosemary by Octavia Cade
The Auction by Eve Vaughn