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Self-interogation Post by :JBowery Category :Poems Author :Emily Bronte Date :February 2010 Read :1270

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"The evening passes fast away.
'Tis almost time to rest;
What thoughts has left the vanished day,
What feelings in thy breast?

"The vanished day? It leaves a sense
Of labour hardly done;
Of little gained with vast expense--
A sense of grief alone?

"Time stands before the door of Death,
Upbraiding bitterly
And Conscience, with exhaustless breath,
Pours black reproach on me:

"And though I've said that Conscience lies
And Time should Fate condemn;
Still, sad Repentance clouds my eyes,
And makes me yield to them!

"Then art thou glad to seek repose?
Art glad to leave the sea,
And anchor all thy weary woes
In calm Eternity?

"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.

"The long war closing in defeat--
Defeat serenely borne,--
Thy midnight rest may still be sweet,
And break in glorious morn!"

The End
(Ellis Bell) Emily Bronte's poem: Self-Interogation

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Plead For Me Plead For Me

Plead For Me
Oh, thy bright eyes must answer now,When Reason, with a scornful brow,Is mocking at my overthrow!Oh, thy sweet tongue must plead for meAnd tell why I have chosen thee!Stern Reason is to judgment come,Arrayed in all her forms of gloom:Wilt thou, my advocate, be dumb?No, radiant angel, speak and say,Why I did cast the world away.Why I have persevered to shunThe common paths that others run;And on a strange road journeyed on,Heedless, alike of wealth and power--Of glory's wreath and pleasure's flower.These, once, indeed, seemed Beings Divine;And they, perchance, heard vows of mine,And saw my offerings on their shrine;But careless gifts

Death Death

Death! that struck when I was most confiding.In my certain faith of joy to be--Strike again, Time's withered branch dividingFrom the fresh root of Eternity!Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,Full of sap, and full of silver dew;Birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;Daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;Guilt stripped off the foliage in its prideBut, within its parent's kindly bosom,Flowed for ever Life's restoring tide.Little mourned I for the parted gladness,For the vacant nest and silent song--Hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;Whispering, "Winter will not linger long!"And, behold! with tenfold