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Emily Jane Bronte - My Lady`s Grave
Work rating: Low

THE linnet in the rocky dells, 
   The moor-lark in the air, 
The bee among the heather bells 
   That hide my lady fair: 

The wild deer browse above her breast; 
   The wild birds raise their brood; 
And they, her smiles of love caress`d, 
   Have left her solitude! 

I ween that when the grave`s dark wall 
   Did first her form retain, 
They thought their hearts could ne`er recall 
   The light of joy again. 

They thought the tide of grief would flow 
   Uncheck`d through future years; 
But where is all their anguish now, 
   And where are all their tears? 

Well, let them fight for honour`s breath, 
   Or pleasure`s shade pursue— 
The dweller in the land of death 
   Is changed and careless too. 

And if their eyes should watch and weep 
   Till sorrow`s source were dry, 
She would not, in her tranquil sleep, 
   Return a single sigh! 

Blow, west wind, by the lonely mound: 
   And murmur, summer streams! 
There is no need of other sound 
   To soothe my lady`s dreams.
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