THERE 's little joy in life for me, <br /> And little terror in the grave ; <br />I 've lived the parting hour to see <br /> Of one I would have died to save. <br /> <br />Calmly to watch the failing breath, <br /> Wishing each sigh might be the last ; <br />Longing to see the shade of death <br /> O'er those belovèd features cast. <br /> <br />The cloud, the stillness that must part <br /> The darling of my life from me ; <br />And then to thank God from my heart, <br /> To thank Him well and fervently ; <br /> <br />Although I knew that we had lost <br /> The hope and glory of our life ; <br />And now, benighted, tempest-tossed, <br /> Must bear alone the weary strife.<br /><br />Charlotte Brontë<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-the-death-of-anne-bront/
