Darkness and Glory

Sleep brings no joy to me, Remembrance never dies; My soul is given to misery And lives in sighs.

Sleep brings no rest to me; The shadows of the dead My waking eyes may never see Surround my bed.

Sleep brings no hope to me; In sounder sleep they come. And with their doleful imagery Deepen the gloom

Sleep brings no strength to me, No power renewed to brave: I only sail a wilder sea, A darker wave.

Sleep brings no friend to me To soothe and aid to bear; They all gaze, oh, how scornfully, And I despair.

Sleep brings no wish to knit My harassed heart beneath: My only wish is to forget In the sleep of death.

No Coward Soul Is Mine BY EMILY BRONTË

No coward soul is mine No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere I see Heaven's glories shine And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear

O God within my breast Almighty ever-present Deity Life, that in me hast rest, As I Undying Life, have power in Thee

Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain, Worthless as withered weeds Or idlest froth amid the boundless main

To waken doubt in one Holding so fast by thy infinity, So surely anchored on The steadfast rock of Immortality.

With wide-embracing love Thy spirit animates eternal years Pervades and broods above, Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

Though earth and moon were gone And suns and universes ceased to be And Thou wert left alone Every Existence would exist in thee

There is not room for Death Nor atom that his might could render void Since thou art Being and Breath And what thou art may never be destroyed.

Ah! Why, Because the Dazzling Sun BY EMILY BRONTË

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

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 As they were life to me And revelled in my changeful dreams Like petrel on the sea.

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

Why did the morning rise to break So great, so pure a spell, And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek Where your cool radiance fell?

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

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

I turned me to the pillow then 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, 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 And give them leave to roam.

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—

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