The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë, The Absent One

XXXII

THE ABSENT ONE

From our evening fireside now
Merry laugh and cheerful tone,
Smiling eye and cloudless brow,
Mirth and music all are flown.
Yet the grass before the door
Grows as green in April rain,
And as blithely as of yore
Larks have poured their daylong strain.

Is it fear or is it sorrow
Checks the frequent stream of joy?
Do we tremble that to-morrow
May our present peace destroy?

For past misery are we weeping?
What is past can hurt no more;
And the gracious heavens are keeping
Aid for that which lies before.

One is absent, and for one,
Cheerless, chill is our hearthstone.
One is absent, and for him
Cheeks are pale and eyes are dim.

Arthur, brother, Gondal's shore
Rested from the battle's roar;
Arthur, brother, we returned
Back to Desmond lost and mourned.

Thou didst purchase by thy fall
Home for us and peace for all;
Yet, how darkly dawned that day!
Dreadful was the price to pay!

Just as once, through sun and mist
I have climbed the mountain's breast,
Still my gun with certain aim
Brought to earth the fluttering game:

But the very dogs repined;
Though I called with whistle shrill,
Tay and Carlo lagged behind,
Looking backward o'er the hill.

Sorrow was not vocal then;
Mute their woe and my despair;
But the joy of life was flown—
He was gone, and we were lone.

So it is by morn and eve;
So it is in field and hall;
For the absent one we grieve;
One being absent, saddens all.

April 19, 1839.

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