A ReminiscenceBY ANNE BRONTËYES, thou art gone! and never more Thy sunny smile shall gladden me;But I may pass the old church door, And pace the floor that covers thee.May stand upon the cold, damp stone, And think that, frozen, lies belowThe lightest heart that I have known, The kindest I shall ever know.Yet, though I cannot see thee more, 'Tis still a comfort to have seen;And though thy transient life is o'er, 'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been;To think a soul so near divine, Within a form so angel fair,United to a heart like thine, Has gladdened once our humble sphere.Picture found
here.
A ReminiscenceBY ANNE BRONTËYES, thou art gone! and never more Thy sunny smile shall gladden me;But I may pass the old church door, And pace the floor that covers thee.May stand upon the cold, damp stone, And think that, frozen, lies belowThe lightest heart that I have known, The kindest I shall ever know.Yet, though I cannot see thee more, 'Tis still a comfort to have seen;And though thy transient life is o'er, 'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been;To think a soul so near divine, Within a form so angel fair,United to a heart like thine, Has gladdened once our humble sphere.Picture found here.
