I’ll not weep that thou art going to leave me,
There’s nothing lovely here;
And doubly will the dark world grieve me,
While thy heart suffers there.
I’ll not weep, because the summer’s glory
Must always end in gloom;
And, follow out the happiest story –
It closes with a tomb!
And I am weary of the anguish
Increasing winters bear;
Weary to watch the spirit languish
Through years of dead despair.
So, if a tear, when thou art dying,
Should haply fall from me,
It is but that my soul is sighing,
To go and rest with thee.
(Emily Bronte)
More Poetry from Emily Bronte:
Emily Bronte Poems based on Topics: Sadness, Death & Dying, Soul, Summer- Wind was Rough which Tore, The (Emily Bronte Poem)
- Prisoner, The - (A Fragment) (Emily Bronte Poem)
- Far, far away is mirth withdrawn (Emily Bronte Poem)
- High waving heather 'neath stormy blasts bending (Emily Bronte Poems)
- That Wind I Used to Hear it Swelling (Emily Bronte Poem)
- Plead For Me (Emily Bronte Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Soul Poems, Summer PoemsBased on Keywords: sighing, world, glory, haply, closes, grieve, doubly, languish, happiest, increasing, winters