REGRET.

By Emily Jane Brontë

Long ago I wished to leave

“The house where I was born;”

Long ago I used to grieve,

My home seemed so forlorn.

In other years, its silent rooms

Were filled with haunting fears;

Now, their very memory comes

O'ercharged with tender tears.

Life and marriage I have known.

Things once deemed so bright;

Now, how utterly is flown

Every ray of light!

‘ Mid the unknown sea, of life

I no blest isle have found;

At last, through all its wild wave's strife,

My bark is homeward bound.

Farewell, dark and rolling deep!

Farewell, foreign shore!

Open, in unclouded sweep,

Thou glorious realm before!

Yet, though I had safely pass'd

That weary, vexed main,

One loved voice, through surge and blast

Could call me back again.

Though the soul's bright morning rose

O'er Paradise for me,

William! even from Heaven's repose

I'd turn, invoked by thee!

Storm nor surge should e'er arrest

My soul, exalting then:

All my heaven was once thy breast,

Would it were mine again!