LAST LINES
by: Emily Brontë (1818-1848)
- O coward
soul is mine,
- No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
- I see Heaven's glories shine,
- And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.
-
- O God within my breast,
- Almighty, ever-present Deity!
- Life--that in me has rest,
- As I--undying Life--have power in Thee!
-
- Vain are the thousand creeds
- That move men's hearts: unutterably vain;
- Worthless as wither'd weeds,
- Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,
-
- To waken doubt in one
- Holding so fast by Thine Infinity;
- So surely anchor'd on
- The steadfast rock of immortality.
-
- With wide-embracing love
- Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
- Pervades and broods above,
- Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.
-
- Though earth and man were gone,
- And suns and universes ceased to be,
- And Thou were left alone,
- Every existence would exist in Thee.
-
- There is not room for Death,
- Nor atom that his might could render void:
- Thou--Thou art Being and Breath,
- And what Thou art may never be destroyed.
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