Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell

    Heavy hangs the rain-drop
     From the burdened spray;
     Heavy broods the damp mist
     On uplands far away.

     Heavy looms the dull sky,
     Heavy rolls the sea;
     And heavy throbs the young heart
     Beneath that lonely tree.

     Never has a blue streak
     Cleft the clouds since morn;
     Never has his grim fate
     Smiled since he was born.

     Frowning on the infant,
     Shadowing childhood's joy
     Guardian-angel knows not
     That melancholy boy.

     Day is passing swiftly
     Its sad and sombre prime;
     Boyhood sad is merging
     In sadder manhood's time:

     All the flowers are praying
     For sun, before they close,
     And he prays too—unconscious—
     That sunless human rose.

     Blossom—that the west-wind
     Has never wooed to blow,
     Scentless are thy petals,
     Thy dew is cold as snow!

     Soul—where kindred kindness,
     No early promise woke,
     Barren is thy beauty,
     As weed upon a rock.

     Wither—soul and blossom!
     You both were vainly given;
     Earth reserves no blessing
     For the unblest of heaven!

     Child of delight, with sun-bright hair,
     And sea-blue, sea-deep eyes!
     Spirit of bliss!  What brings thee here
     Beneath these sullen skies?

     Thou shouldst live in eternal spring,
     Where endless day is never dim;
     Why, Seraph, has thine erring wing
     Wafted thee down to weep with him?

     "Ah! not from heaven am I descended,
     Nor do I come to mingle tears;
     But sweet is day, though with shadows blended;
     And, though clouded, sweet are youthful years.

     "I—the image of light and gladness—
     Saw and pitied that mournful boy,
     And I vowed—if need were—to share his sadness,
     And give to him my sunny joy.

     "Heavy and dark the night is closing;
     Heavy and dark may its biding be:
     Better for all from grief reposing,
     And better for all who watch like me—

     "Watch in love by a fevered pillow,
     Cooling the fever with pity's balm
     Safe as the petrel on tossing billow,
     Safe in mine own soul's golden calm!

     "Guardian-angel he lacks no longer;
     Evil fortune he need not fear:
     Fate is strong, but love is stronger;
     And MY love is truer than angel-care."