L
That dreary lake, that moonlight sky,
That wan moon struggling through the cloud,
That sullen murmur whispering by
As if it dared not speak aloud,
Fall on my heart so sadly now,
Whither my joys so lonely flow.
Touch them not, they bloom and smile,
But their roots are withering all the while.
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This page was imported from Wikisource. “The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë” by Emily Brontë (1908) is in the public domain; the text is as transcribed and proofread by Wikisource's volunteers.
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