On the Death of Emily Brontë
by Charlotte Bronte.
Christmas Eve 1848
Emily's funeral card My darling thou wilt never know
The grinding agony of woe
That we have bourne for thee,
Thus may we consolation tear
E'en from the depth of our despair
And wasting misery.
The nightly anguish thou art spared
When all the crushing truth is bared
To the awakening mind,
When the galled heart is pierced with grief,
Till wildly it implores relief,
But small relief can find.
Nor know'st thou what it is to lie
Looking forth with streaming eye
On life's lone wilderness.
"Weary, weary, dark and drear,
How shall I the journey bear,
The burden and distress?"
Old London Bridge - Only for Poets
HEARTY WELCOME & HAVE A NICE STAY
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.
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