NO coward soul is mine, 
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere: 
I see Heaven's glories shine, 
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear. 

O God within my breast, 
Almighty, ever-present Deity! 
Life--that in me has rest, 
As I--undying Life--have power in Thee! 

Vain are the thousand creeds 
That move men's hearts: unutterably vain; 
Worthless as wither'd weeds, 
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main, 

To waken doubt in one 
Holding so fast by Thine infinity; 
So surely anchor'd on 
The steadfast rock of immortality. 

With wide-embracing love 
Thy Spirit animates eternal years, 
Pervades and broods above, 
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears. 

Though earth and man were gone, 
And suns and universes cease to be, 
And Thou were left alone, 
Every existence would exist in Thee. 

There is not room for Death, 
Nor atom that his might could render void: 
Thou--Thou art Being and Breath, 
And what Thou art may never be destroyed. 

Added: Mar 14 2005 | Viewed: 1075 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Emily Bronte
Poem: Last Lines

There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Last Lines, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Emily Bronte with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!