Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/91

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37
POEMS OF EMILY BRONTË

'Nothing regrets to see thee go—
Not one voice sobs 'farewell';
And where thy heart has suffered so,
Canst thou desire to dwell?'


'Alas! the countless links are strong
That bind us to our clay;
The loving spirit lingers long,
And would not pass away!


'And rest is sweet, when laurelled fame
Will crown the soldier's crest;
But a brave heart, with a tarnished name,
Would rather fight than rest.'


'Well, thou hast fought for many a year,
Hast fought thy whole life through,
Hast humbled Falsehood, trampled Fear;
What is there left to do?'


''Tis true, this arm has hotly striven,
Has dared what few would dare;
Much have I done, and freely given,
But little learnt to bear!'


'Look on the grave where thou must sleep,
Thy last, and strongest foe;
It is endurance not to weep,
If that repose seem woe.