Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/362

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306
POEMS OF EMILY BRONTË

LVI

I'm happiest now when most away
I can tear my soul from its mould of clay,
On a windy night when the moon is bright,
And my eye can wander through worlds of light.


When I am not, and none beside,
Nor earth, nor sea, nor cloudless sky,
But only spirit wandering wide
Through infinite immensity.