The Norton Anthology of English literature. Volume 2

Cold in the earth, and the deep snow piled above thee! Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my Only Love, to love thee, Severed at last by Time's all-wearing wave?

5 Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover Over the mountains, on that northern shore; Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?

Cold in the earth, and fifteen wild Decembers

io From those brown hills have melted into spring� Faithful indeed is the spirit that remembers After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive if I forget thee While the World's tide is bearing me along: 15 Other desires and other hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure but cannot do thee wrong.

No later light has lightened up my heaven, No second morn has ever shone for me: All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given�

20 All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But when the days of golden dreams had perished And even Despair was powerless to destroy, Then did I learn how existence could be cherished, Strengthened and fed without the aid of joy;

25 Then did I check the tears of useless passion, Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine; Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten Down to that tomb already more than mine!

And even yet, I dare not let it languish,

30 Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?

1845 1846

1. Titled in manuscript "R. Alcona to J. Breznaida," this poem was originally composed as a lament by the heroine of the Gondal saga for the hero's death.

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131 4 / EMILY BRONTE

Stars

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun Restored our earth to joy Have you departed, every one, And left a desert sky?

5 All through the night, your glorious eyes Were gazing down in mine, And with a full heart's thankful sighs I blessed that watch divine!

I was at peace, and drank your beams

10 As they were life to me And revelled in my changeful dreams Like petrel0 on the sea. small dark seabirds

Thought followed thought�star followed star Through boundless regions on, 15 While one sweet influence, near and far, Thrilled through and proved us one.

Why did the morning dawn to break So great, so pure a spell, And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek

20 Where your cool radiance fell?

Rlood-red he rose, and arrow-straight His fierce beams struck my brow: The soul of Nature sprang elate, But mine sank sad and low!

25 My lids closed down�yet through their veil I saw him blazing still; And steep in gold the misty dale And flash upon the hill.

I turned me to the pillow then

30 To call back Night, and see Your worlds of solemn light, again Throb with my heart and me!

It would not do�the pillow glowed And glowed both roof and floor, 35 And birds sang loudly in the wood, And fresh winds shook the door.

The curtains waved, the wakened flies Were murmuring round my room, Imprisoned there, till I should rise

40 And give them leave to roam.

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THE PRISONER. A FRAGMENT / 131 5

O Stars and Dreams and Gentle Night; O Night and Stars return! And hide me from the hostile light That does not warm, but burn�

45 That drains the blood of suffering men; Drinks tears, instead of dew: Let me sleep through his blinding reign, And only wake with you!

1845 1846

The Prisoner. A Fragment1

In the dungeon crypts idly did I stray, Reckless of the lives wasting there away; "Draw the ponderous bars; open, Warder stern!" He dare not say me nay�the hinges harshly turn.

5 "Our guests are darkly lodged," I whispered, gazing through The vault whose grated eye showed heaven more grey than blue. (This was when glad spring laughed in awaking pride.) "Aye, darkly lodged enough!" returned my sullen guide.

Then, God forgive my youth, forgive my careless tongue!

io I scoffed, as the chill chains on the damp flagstones rung; "Confined in triple walls, art thou so much to fear, That we must bind thee down and clench thy fetters here?"

The captive raised her face; it was as soft and mild As sculptured marble saint or slumbering, unweaned child; 15 It was so soft and mild, it was so sweet and fair, Pain could not trace a line nor grief a shadow there!

The captive raised her hand and pressed it to her brow: "I have been struck," she said, "and I am suffering now; Yet these are little worth, your bolts and irons strong;

20 And were they forged in steel they could not hold me long."

Hoarse laughed the jailor grim: "Shall I be won to hear; Dost think, fond� dreaming wretch, that I shall grant thy prayer? foolish Or, better still, wilt melt my master's heart with groans? Ah, sooner might the sun thaw down these granite stones!

25 "My master's voice is low, his aspect bland and kind, But hard as hardest flint the soul that lurks behind;