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lirik lagu ghizela rowe - charlotte bronte - apostasy

this last denial of my faith
thou, solemn priest, hast heard;
and, though upon my bed of death
i call not back a word
point not to thy madonna, priest,
thy sightless saint of stone;
she cannot, from this burning breast
wring one repentant moan

thou say’st, that when a sinless child
i duly bent the knee
and prayed to what in marble smiled
cold, lifeless, mute, on me
i did. but listen ! children spring
full soon to riper youth;
and, for love’s vow and wedlock’s ring
i sold my early truth

’twas not a grey, bare head, like thine
bent o’er me, when i said
” that land and god and faith are mine
for which thy fathеrs bled.”
i see thee not, my eyes arе dim;
but, well i hear thee say
” o daughter, cease to think of him
who led thy soul astray
between you lies both sp~ce and time;
let leagues and years prevail
to turn thee from the path of crime
back to the church’s pale.”
and, did i need that thou shouldst tell
what mighty barriers rise
to part me from that dungeon~cell
where my loved walter lies ?

and, did i need that thou shouldst taunt
my dying hour at last
by bidding this worn spirit pant
no more for what is past ?
priestmust i cease to think of him ?
how hollow rings that word !
can time, can tears, can distance dim
the memory of my lord ?

i said before, i saw not thee
because, an hour agone
over my eye~b~lls, heavily
the lids fell down like stone
but still my spirit’s inward sight
beholds his image beam
as fixed, as clear, as burning bright
as some red planet’s gleam
talk not of thy last sacrament
tell not thy beads for me;
both rite and prayer are vainly spent
as dews upon the sea
speak not one word of heaven above
rave not of h~ll’s alarms;
give me but back my walter’s love
restore me to his arms !

then will the bliss of heaven be won;
then will h~ll shrink away
as i have seen night’s terrors shun
the conquering steps of day
’tis my religion thus to love
my creed thus fixed to be;
not death shall shake, nor priestcraft break
my rock~like constancy!

now go; for at the door there waits
another stranger guest:
he callsi comemy pulse scarce beats
my heart fails in my breast
again that voicehow far away
how dreary sounds that tone !
and i, methinks, am gone astray
in trackless wastes and lone
i fain would rest a little while:
where can i find a stay
till dawn upon the hills shall smile
and show some trodden way?
” i come! i come!” in haste she said
” ’twas walter’s voice i heard!”
then up she sprang but fell back, dead
his name her latest word

- lirik lagu ghizela rowe

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