Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/99

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POEMS OF EMILY BRONTË

XIX

STANZAS

I'll not weep that thou art going to leave me,
 There's nothing lovely here;
And doubly will the dark world grieve me,
 While thy heart suffers there.


I'll not weep, because the summer's glory
 Must always end in gloom;
And, follow out the happiest story—
 It closes with a tomb!


And I am weary of the anguish
 Increasing winters bear;
Weary to watch the spirit languish
 Through years of dead despair.


So, if a tear, when thou art dying,
 Should haply fall from me,
It is but that my soul is sighing,
 To go and rest with thee.