Parting
Автор книги Charlotte Bronte
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THERE'S no use in weeping,
Though we are condemned to part:
There's such a thing as keeping.
A remembrance in one's heart:
There's such a thing as dwelling.
On the thought ourselves have nurs'd,
And with scorn and courage telling.
The world to do its worst.
We'll not let its follies grieve us,
We'll just take them as they come;
And then every day will leave us.
A merry laugh for home.
Every glorious sight above us,
Every pleasant sight beneath,
We'll connect with those that love us,
Whom we truly love till death !
We can burst the bonds which chain us,
Which cold human hands have wrought,
And where none shall dare restrain us.
We can meet again, in thought.
