Emily Jane Brontë (Эмили Бронте)

* * *

If grief for grief can touch thee,
If answering woe for woe,
If any truth can melt thee
Come to me now!

I cannot be more lonely,
More drear I cannot be!
My worn heart beats so wildly
'Twill break for thee--

And when the world despises--
When Heaven repels my prayer--
Will not mine angel comfort?
Mine idol hear?

Yes, by the tears I'm poured,
By all my hours of pain
O I shall surely win thee,
Beloved, again! 

1. The Elder's Rebuke
2. Often Rebuked, Yet Always Back Returning
3. Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place
4. High Waving Heather 'Neath Stormy Blasts Bending
5. The Philosopher

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1926

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