The Dweller In The Land Of Death
The linnet in the rocky dells, The moorlark in the air, The bce among the hcather bells, Tliat hide my lady fair; The wíld deer browse above her bre:ist ; The wild birds raise their brood ; But they her smiles of lovc caressed, Huve left her solitude! I ween that when the graves dark wall Did first her form re tuin, They thought their hearts could ne'er rccall The light of joy again. They thought the tide of grief would llow Unchecked through future years ; But where is all their anguish now, And where are all their tcars? Well, let them fight for honor's breath, Or pleasure's shadc pursue - The dwcller in the land of death Is changcd and careless too. And, if their eyes should watch and wocp Till sorrow's source were dry, She would not, in her tranquil sleep, Return a single sigh 1 Blow, west wind, by the lonely mound, And tnurmur, summer streams; There is no need of other sound To soothe my lady's dreanis.
Article
Subjects
Emily Bronte
Poem
Old News
Ann Arbor Courier