I am the only being whose
doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A
smile of joy since I was born
In
secret pleasure - secret tears
This changeful life has slipped away
As friendless after eighteen years
As lone as on
my natal day
There have been times I cannot hide
There have been times when this was drear
When my
sad soul forgot its pride
And longed for
one to love me here
But those were in the early glow
Of feelings since subdued by care
And they have
died so long ago
I hardly now believe they were
First melted off the hope of youth
Then Fancy's
rainbow fast withdrew
And then experience told me truth
In mortal bosoms never grew
'Twas grief enough to think
mankind
All hollow
servile insincere -
But worse to trust to my own mind
And find the same
corruption there
by
Emily Brontë
(1818 to 1848)
In the book of Brontë's poetry I have, this poem has no punctuation. I think it was written this way. If anyone has a copy with punctuation, please let me know.
This poem is
public domain.