EMILY BRONTE
Yea, as my swift days near their goal,
'Tib all that I implore: In life and death a chainlets soul,
With courage to endure.
747 Last Lines
NO coward soul is mine, No trembler m 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 has rest, As I undying Life have power in Thee!
Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts unutterably vain;
Worthless as wither'd weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,
To waken doubt in one Holding bo fast by Thine Infinity;
So surely anchor'd on The steadfast rock of immortality.
With wide-embracing love Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
Pervadeb and broods above, Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.
Though earth and man were gone, And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou were left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee.
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