A Reminiscence

YES, 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 below
The 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.

by Anne Brontë

Other poems of BRONTË (67)

Comments (1)

Death. Reconciling ourselves to it is difficult, she seems to have found a way and is reconciled to it- 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;