Romantic+poem+1-+At+Castlewood

 The day is done, the winter sun
 * At Castlewood **

 Is setting in its sullen sky;

 And drear the course that has been run,

 And dim the hearts that slowly die.

 No star will light my coming night;

 No morn of hope for me will shine;

 I mourn not heaven would blast my sight,

 And I ne'er longed for joys divine.

 Through life's hard task I did not ask

 Celestial aid, celestial cheer;

 I saw my fate without its mask,

 And met it too without a tear.

 The grief that pressed my aching breast

 Was heavier far than earth can be;

 And who would dread eternal rest

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> When labour's hour was agony?

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Dark falls the fear of this despair

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> On spirits born of happiness;

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> But I was bred the mate of care,

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> The foster-child of sore distress.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> No sighs for me, no sympathy,

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> No wish to keep my soul below;

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> The heart is dead in infancy,

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Unwept-for let the body go.

__<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">- <span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">Emily Bronte __