The Complete Poems of Anne Brontë/Call Me Away
CALL ME AWAY
Call me away, there's nothing here
That wins my soul to stay;
Then let me leave this prospect drear
And hasten far away.
That wins my soul to stay;
Then let me leave this prospect drear
And hasten far away.
To our beloved land I'll flee,
Our land of thought and soul,
Where I have roved so oft with thee
Beyond the world's control.
Our land of thought and soul,
Where I have roved so oft with thee
Beyond the world's control.
I'll sit and watch those ancient trees,
Those Scotch firs dark and high,
I'll listen as the eerie breeze
Tempts leaf and branch to sigh.
Those Scotch firs dark and high,
I'll listen as the eerie breeze
Tempts leaf and branch to sigh.
The glorious moon shines far above,
How soft her radiance falls
On snowy heights, on rock, and grove,
And yonder palace walls.
How soft her radiance falls
On snowy heights, on rock, and grove,
And yonder palace walls.
Who stands beneath yon fir-trees high?
A youth so slight and fair,
But whose keen and restless azure eye
Proclaims him known to care.
A youth so slight and fair,
But whose keen and restless azure eye
Proclaims him known to care.
Though white that brow it is not smooth:
Dark lines spread 'neath the hair;
Though soft those features, yet in sooth
Stern sorrow has been there.
Dark lines spread 'neath the hair;
Though soft those features, yet in sooth
Stern sorrow has been there.
Now on the peaceful moon are fixed
Those eyes so clear and bright,
But trembling tear-drops hang betwixt,
And dim the blessèd sight.
Those eyes so clear and bright,
But trembling tear-drops hang betwixt,
And dim the blessèd sight.
Though late the hour and keen the blast
That whistles round him now,
Those raven locks are backward cast
To cool his burning brow.
That whistles round him now,
Those raven locks are backward cast
To cool his burning brow.
[1]His hands above his heaving breast
Are clasped in agony;
'O Father, Father, let me rest,
And call my soul to Thee!
Are clasped in agony;
'O Father, Father, let me rest,
And call my soul to Thee!
[1]'I know 'tis weakness thus to pray,
But all this cankering care,
This doubt, tormenting night and day,
Is more than I can bear.
But all this cankering care,
This doubt, tormenting night and day,
Is more than I can bear.
'With none to comfort, none to guide,
And none to strengthen me,
Since thou, my only friend, hast died,
I've pined to follow thee.
[1]Since thou hast died! And did he live
[1]What comfort would his counsel give
[1]To one forlorn like me?
And none to strengthen me,
Since thou, my only friend, hast died,
I've pined to follow thee.
[1]Since thou hast died! And did he live
[1]What comfort would his counsel give
[1]To one forlorn like me?
'Would he my idol's form adore:
Her soul, her glance, her tone,
And say, "Forget for evermore
Her kindred, and thine own.
[1]Let dreams of her thy peace destroy,
[1]Leave every other hope of joy,
[1]And live for her alone"?'
Her soul, her glance, her tone,
And say, "Forget for evermore
Her kindred, and thine own.
[1]Let dreams of her thy peace destroy,
[1]Leave every other hope of joy,
[1]And live for her alone"?'
He starts, he smiles, and dries the tears
Still glistening on his cheek:
The lady of his soul appears,
And, hark! I hear her speak.
Still glistening on his cheek:
The lady of his soul appears,
And, hark! I hear her speak.
'Aye, dry thy tears! thou wilt not weep
While I am by thy side;
Our foes their ceaseless watch may keep,
But cannot thus divide
While I am by thy side;
Our foes their ceaseless watch may keep,
But cannot thus divide
'Such hearts as ours, and we to-night
Their malice will deride,
And in the pale moon's silver light
Together will abide.
Their malice will deride,
And in the pale moon's silver light
Together will abide.
'No fear our present bliss shall blast,
And sorrow we'll defy;
Do thou forget the dreary past,
The dreadful future, I.'
And sorrow we'll defy;
Do thou forget the dreary past,
The dreadful future, I.'
'Forget it? Yes, while thou art by
I think of nought but thee;
'Tis only when thou art not nigh
Remembrance tortures me.
I think of nought but thee;
'Tis only when thou art not nigh
Remembrance tortures me.
'But such a lofty soul to find,
And such a heart as thine,
In such a glorious form enshrined,
[1]And still to call thee mine,
[1]Would be for earth too great a bliss
[1]Without a taint of woe like this,
Then why should I repine?'
And such a heart as thine,
In such a glorious form enshrined,
[1]And still to call thee mine,
[1]Would be for earth too great a bliss
[1]Without a taint of woe like this,
Then why should I repine?'
January 24, 1845.