Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WRITTEN TO GAALDINE PRISON CAVES TO A.G.A., by EMILY JANE BRONTE

Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WRITTEN TO GAALDINE PRISON CAVES TO A.G.A., by                 Poet's Biography
First Line: Thy sun is near meridian height
Last Line: This hell shall wring thy spirit too!
Alternate Author Name(s): Bell, Ellis
Subject(s): Conduct Of Life; Death; Dead, The

Thy sun is near meridian height
And my sun sinks in endless night
But if that night bring only sleep
Then I shall rest, while thou wilt weep.

And say not, that my early tomb
Will give me to a darker doom --
Shall these long, agonizing years
Be punished by eternal tears?

No, that I feel can never be;
A God of hate could hardly bear
To watch, through all eternity,
His own creation's dread despair!

The pangs that wring my mortal breast
Must claim from Justice, lasting rest:
Enough, that this departing breath
Will pass in anguish worse than death.

If I have sinned, long, long ago
That sin was purified by woe --
I've suffered on through night and day;
I've trod a dark and frightful way.

Earth's wilderness was round me spread
Heaven's tempests beat my naked head --
I did not kneel: in vain would prayer
Have sought one gleam of mercy there!

How could I ask for pitying love
When that grim concave frowned above
Hoarding its lightnings to destroy
My only and my priceless joy?

They struck and long may Eden shine
Ere I would call its glories mine
All Heaven's undreamt felicity
Could never blot the past from me --

No, years may cloud and death may sever
But what is done is done for ever --
And thou false friend, and treacherous guide,
Go sate thy cruel heart with pride --

Go, load my memory with shame;
Speak but to curse my hated name;
My tortured limbs in dungeons bind
And spare my life to kill my mind --

Leave me in chains and darkness now
And when my very soul is worn;
When reason's light has left my brow
And madness cannot feel thy scorn;

Then come again -- thou wilt not shrink;
I know thy soul is free from fear
The last full cup of triumph drink,
Before the blank of death be there --

Thy raving, dying victim see;
Lost, cursed, degraded -- all for thee!
Gaze on the wretch -- recall to mind
His golden days left long behind.

Does memory sleep in Lethean rest?
Or wakes its whisper in thy breast?
O memory, wake! Let scenes return
That even her haughty heart must mourn!

Reveal, where o'er a lone green wood
The moon of summer pours
Far down from heaven, its silver flood
On deep Elderno's shores --

There, lingering in the wild embrace
Youth's warm affections gave
She sits, and fondly seems to trace
His features in the wave --

And while, on that reflected face
Her eyes intently dwell:
'Fernando, sing tonight,' she says,
'The lays I love so well.'

He smiles and sings, though every air
Betrays the faith of yesterday:
His soul is glad to cast for her
Virtue and faith and Heaven away.

Well, thou hast paid me back my love!
But, if there be a God above
Whose arm is strong, whose word is true
This hell shall wring thy spirit too!

Discover our poem explanations - click here!

Other Poems of Interest...

Home: PoetryExplorer.net