Лирика. Эмили Джейн Бронте

мою ветвь, чтобы новая поросль гурьбою

      Заменила один слишком рано погибший побег,

      Его стебель гниющий хотя бы накормит собою

      То, откуда он вышел, и в Вечность отбудет навек.

      Death! that struck when I was most confiding

      * * *

      Death! that struck when I was most confiding

      In my certain faith of joy to be -

      Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing

      From the fresh root of Eternity!

      Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,

      Full of sap, and full of silver dew;

      Birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;

      Daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.

      Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;

      Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;

      But, within its parent's kindly bosom,

      Flowed for ever Life's restoring-tide.

      Little mourned I for the parted gladness,

      For the vacant nest and silent song -

      Hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;

      Whispering, ' Winter will not linger long!'

      And, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,

      Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;