Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/81

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Methought, the very breath I breathed
 Was full of sparks divine,
And all my heather-couch was wreathed
 By that celestial shine!

And, while the wide earth echoing rung
 To that strange minstrelsy,
The little glittering spirits sung,
 Or seemed to sing, to me:

'O mortal! mortal! let them die;
 Let time and tears destroy,
That we may overflow the sky
 With universal joy!

'Let grief distract the sufferer's breast,
 And night obscure his way;
They hasten him to endless rest,
 And everlasting day.

'To thee the world is like a tomb,
 A desert's naked shore;
To us, in unimagined bloom,
 It brightens more and more!

'And, could we lift the veil, and give
 One brief glimpse to thine eye,
Thou wouldst rejoice for those that live,
 Because they live to die.'