Page:Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, 1846).djvu/34

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24
THE PHILOSOPHER.


"Oh, for the time when I shall sleep
Without identity,
And never care how rain may steep,
Or snow may cover me!
No promised heaven, these wild desires,
Could all, or half fulfil;
No threatened hell, with quenchless fires,
Subdue this quenchless will!"


"So said I, and still say the same;
 Still, to my death, will say—
Three gods, within this little frame,
 Are warring night and day;
Heaven could not hold them all, and yet
 They all are held in me;
And must be mine till I forget
 My present entity!
Oh, for the time, when in my breast
 Their struggles will be o'er!
Oh, for the day, when I shall rest,
 And never suffer more!"


"I saw a spirit, standing, man,
 Where thou dost stand—an hour ago,
And round his feet three rivers ran,
 Of equal depth, and equal flow—
A golden stream—and one like blood;
 And one like sapphire seemed to be;
But, where they joined their triple flood
 It tumbled in an inky sea.