“The Philosopher” by Emily Bronte

Emily Bronte

“ENOUGH of thought, philosopher! 

  Too long hast thou been dreaming 

Unlightened, in this chamber drear, 

  While summer’s sun is beaming! 

Space-sweeping soul, what sad refrain 

Concludes thy musings once again?

  “Oh, for the time when I shall sleep 

  Without identity, 

  And never care how rain may steep, 

  Or snow may cover me! 

  No promised heaven, these wild desires, 

  Could all, or half fulfil; 

  No threathened hell, with quenchless fires, 

  Subdue this quenchless will!”

“So said I, and still say the same;

  Still, to my death, will say

Three gods, within this little frame,

  Are warring night and day;

Heaven could not hold them all, and yet

  They all are held in me;

And must be mine till I forget

  My present entity!

Oh, for the time, when in my breast

  Their struggles will be o’er!

Oh, for the day, when I shall rest,

  And never suffer more! “

“I saw a spirit, standing, man,

  Where thou dost standan hour ago,

And round his feet three rivers ran,

  Of equal depth, and equal flow

“A golden streamand one like blood;

  And one like sapphire, seemed to be;

But, where they joined their triple flood

  It tumbled in an inky sea.


The spirit sent his dazzling gaze 


  Down through that ocean’s gloomy night 

Then, kindling all, with sudden blaze, 

  The glad deep sparkled wide and bright

White as the sun, far, far more fair 

  Than its divided sources were! “

“And even for that spirit, seer,

  I’ve watched and sought my life-time long;

Sought him in heaven, hell, earth and air

  An endless search, and always wrong!

Had I but seen his glorious eye

  Once light the clouds that wilder me,

I ne’er had raised this coward cry

  To cease to think and cease to be;

I ne’er had called oblivion blest,

  Nor, stretching eager hands to death,

Implored to change for senseless rest

  This sentient soul, this living breath

Oh, let me diethat power and will

  Their cruel strife may close;

And conquered good, and conquering ill

  Be lost in one repose! “



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