EMILY BRONTE

Yet I would lose no sting, would wish no torture less ; The more that anguish racks, the earlier it will bless ; And robed in fires of hell, or bright with heavenly shine, If it but herald Death, the vision is divine.

��738. Last Lines

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 has rest, As I undying Life have pov/er 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 so fast by Thine infinity;

So surely anchor'd an 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 man were gone, And suns and universes cease to be,

And Thou were left alone. Every existence would exist in Thee.

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