After Emily Bronte


Alone, well past midnight

my heart is heavy-laden

life has lost its laughter

joys have been stolen.


The moors are quiet and solemn

the moon and stars they choose to be hidden

dreams of the happy past they waken

only words forlorn are spoken


yet love, the most tender love

I'll relinquish not but hold fondly on-

after the loneliness of tonight's hours

I'll wake in hope to greet the welcoming dawn.