lirik lagu ghizela rowe - call me away - anne bronte
call me away; there’s nothing here
that wins my soul to stay;
then let me leave this prospect drear
and hasten far away
to our beloved land i’ll flee
our land of thought and soul
where i have roved so oft with thee
beyond the world’s control
i’ll sit and watch those ancient trees
those scotch firs dark and high;
i’ll listen to the eerie breeze
among their branches sigh
the glorious moon shines far above;
how soft her radiance falls
on snowy heights, and rock, and grove;
and yonder palace walls!
who stands beneath yon fir trees high?
a youth both slight and fair
whose bright and restless azure eye
proclaims him known to care
though fair that brow, it is not smooth;
though small those features, yet in sooth
stern passion has been there
now on the peaceful moon are fixed
those eyes so glistening bright
but trembling teardrops hang betwixt
and dim the blessed light
though late the hour, and keen the blast
that whistles round him now
those raven locks are backward cast
to cool his burning brow
his hands above his heaving breast
are clasped in agony —
‘o father! father! let me rest!
and call my soul to thee!
i know ’tis weakness thus to pray;
but all this cankering care —
this doubt tormenting night and day
is more than i can bear!
with none to comfort, none to guide
and none to strengthen me
since thou my only friend hast died —
i’ve pined to follow thee!
since thou hast died! and did he live
what comfort could his counsel give —
to one forlorn like me?
would he my idol’s form adore —
her soul, her glance, her tone?
and say, “forget for ever more
her kindred and thine own;
let dreams of her thy peace destroy
leave every other hope and joy
and live for her alone”?’
he starts, he smiles, and dries the tears
still glistening on his cheek
the lady of his soul appears
and hark! i hear her speak —
‘aye, dry thy tears; thou wilt not weep —
while i am by thy side —
our foes all day their watch may keep
but cannot thus divide
such hearts as ours; and we tonight
together in the clear moon’s light
their malice will deride
no fear our present bliss shall blast
and sorrow we’ll defy
do thou forget the dreary past
the dreadful future i.’
forget it? yes, while thou art by
i think of nought but thee
’tis only when thou art not nigh
remembrance tortures me
but such a lofty soul to find
and such a heart as thine
in such a glorious form enshrined
and still to call thee mine —
would be for earth too great a bliss
without a taint of woe like this
then why should i repine?
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