Everything in life is amazing, regardless.

16 July 2012

Emily Bronte


Hope was but a timid friend; 
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men. 

She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars one dreary day, 
I looked out to see her there, 
And she turned her face away! 

Like a false guard, false watch keeping, 
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease. 

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground, 
Even Sorrow saw, repenting, 
Those sad relics scattered round; 

Hope, whose whisper would have given 
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven, 
Went, and ne'er returned again!