Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/207

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
151
POEMS OF EMILY BRONTË

In vain, they will not come to-day,
And morning's beams will rise as drear.
Then tell me, are they gone for aye,
Or gleams the sun amongst the mists of care?


Be still, reviving hope doth say,
Departed joys 'tis fond to mourn,
Think every storm that rides its way
Prepared a more divine return.

August 30, 1839.