A Reminiscence

A

Anne Brontë

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.

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