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Me thinks this heart... by Emily Jane Brontë, Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Me thinks this heart should rest awhile So stilly round the evening falls The veiled sun sheds no parting smile Nor mirth nor music wakes my Halls I have sat lonely all the day Watching the drizzly mist descend And first conceal the hills in grey And then along the valleys wend

And I have sat and watched the trees And the sad flowers how drear they blow Those flowers were formed to feel the breeze Wave their light leaves in summer's glow Yet their lives passed in gloomy woe And hopeless comes its dark decline And I lament because I know That cold departure pictures mine

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