Part 14 (1/2)

And if their eyes should watch and weep Till sorrow's source were dry, She would not, in her tranquil sleep, Return a single sigh

Bloind, by the lowly mound, And murmur, summer-streams-- There is no need of other sound To soothe my lady's dreams

There is, finally, that nameless poem--her last--where Emily Bronte's creed finds utterance It also is well known, but I give it here by way of justification, lest I should seeerated the mystic detachment of this lover of the earth:

No coward soul is mine, No trelories shi+ne, And faith shi+nes equal, arhty, ever-present Deity!

Life--that inLife--have power in thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts: unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth a so fast by thine infinity; So surely anchored on The steadfast rock of i love Thy spirit anies, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears

Though earth and one, And suns and universes ceased to be, And Thou wert left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee

There is not rooht could render void: Thou--THOU art Being and Breath, And what THOU art may never be destroyed

It is not a perfect work I do not think it is by any means the finest poem that Emily Bronte ever wrote It has least of her matchless, incommunicable quality There is one verse, the fifth, that recalls alhteenth century

But even that association cannot destroy or contanity If it recalls the poets of Deism, it recalls no less one of the most ancient of all :

[Greek: pos d' an epeit apoloito pelon, pos d' an ke genoito; ei ge genoit, ouk est', oud ei pote enesis men apesbestai kai apiotos olethros

oude diaireton estin, epei pan estin hoar eonti pelazei]

Parine, ”penetrated” to Haworth; yet the last verse of Eht out of his [Greek: ta pros halaetheiaen] Truly, an astonishi+ng poee in the 'forties

But theabout it is its inversion of a yet more consecrated form: ”Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee” Eustine She has an absolutely inspired and independent insight:

Life--that inLife--have power in Thee!

For there was but little hu could be prouder than her rejection of the view that must have been offered to her every Sunday from her father's pulpit She could not accept the Christian idea of separation and the Mediator She knew too well the secret She saw too clearly the heavenly side of the eternal quest She heard, across the worlds, the doard and the upward rush of the Two im cry of the divine pursuer: ”My heart is restless till it rests in Thee”

It is in keeping with her vision of the descent of the Invisible, who cos the thickest stars,

her vision of the lamp-lit , and the secret, unearthly consummation

There is no doubt about it And there is no doubt about the Paganis about Emily Bronte

The truth is that she revealed her innermost and unapparent nature only in her poems That was probably why she was so annoyed when Charlotte discovered theo it was commonly supposed that Charlotte had discovered all there were Then sixty-seven hitherto unpublished poems appeared in America And the world went on unaware of what had happened