Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell

 O God! if this indeed be all
     That Life can show to me;
     If on my aching brow may fall
     No freshening dew from Thee;

     If with no brighter light than this
     The lamp of hope may glow,
     And I may only dream of bliss,
     And wake to weary woe;

     If friendship's solace must decay,
     When other joys are gone,
     And love must keep so far away,
     While I go wandering on,—

     Wandering and toiling without gain,
     The slave of others' will,
     With constant care, and frequent pain,
     Despised, forgotten still;

     Grieving to look on vice and sin,
     Yet powerless to quell
     The silent current from within,
     The outward torrent's swell

     While all the good I would impart,
     The feelings I would share,
     Are driven backward to my heart,
     And turned to wormwood there;

     If clouds must EVER keep from sight
     The glories of the Sun,
     And I must suffer Winter's blight,
     Ere Summer is begun;

     If Life must be so full of care,
     Then call me soon to thee;
     Or give me strength enough to bear
     My load of misery.