| J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Womens Verse. 1921. | | | | Last Lines | | By Emily Brontë (18181848) |
| | | NO coward soul is mine, | |
| No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere: | |
| I see Heavens glories shine, | |
| And faith shines equal, arming me from fear. | |
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| O God within my breast, | 5 |
| Almighty, ever-present Deity! | |
| Lifethat in me has rest, | |
| As Iundying Lifehave power in Thee! | |
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| Vain are the thousand creeds | |
| That move mens hearts, unutterably vain, | 10 |
| Worthless as withered weeds, | |
| Or idle froth amid the boundless main, | |
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| To waken doubt in one | |
| Holding so fast by Thine infinity; | |
| So surely anchored 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 ceased to be, | |
| And Thou were left alone, | |
| Every existence would exist in Thee. | |
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| There is no room for Death, | 25 |
| Nor atom that his might could render void: | |
| ThouThou art Being and Breath, | |
| And what Thou art may never be destroyed. | | | | |
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