| Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900. |
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| Emily Brontë. 1818–1848 |
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| 738. Last Lines |
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| 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. | |
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| O God within my breast, | 5 |
| Almighty, ever-present Deity! | |
| Life—that in me has rest, | |
| As I—undying Life—have power in Thee! | |
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| Vain are the thousand creeds | |
| That move men's hearts: unutterably vain; | 10 |
| Worthless as wither'd weeds, | |
| Or idlest froth amid the boundless main, | |
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| To waken doubt in one | |
| Holding so fast by Thine infinity; | |
| So surely anchor'd on | 15 |
| The steadfast rock of immortality. | |
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| With wide-embracing love | |
| Thy Spirit animates eternal years, | |
| Pervades and broods above, | |
| Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears. | 20 |
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| Though earth and man were gone, | |
| And suns and universes cease to be, | |
| And Thou were left alone, | |
| Every existence would exist in Thee. | |
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| There is not room for Death, | 25 |
| Nor atom that his might could render void: | |
| Thou—Thou art Being and Breath, | |
| And what Thou art may never be destroyed. | |
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