---

Beneath the turf, beneath the mould

Forever dark, forever cold

I see around me tombstones grey

Stretching their shadows far away

In the forest my footsteps tread

Lie low and lone the silent dead

For Time and Death and Mortal pain

Give wounds that will not heal again

Let me remember half the woe

I've seen and heard and felt below

And Heaven itself, so pure and blest

Could never give my spirit rest

What gloomy guests we hold within

Torments and madness, tears and sin

Well, may they live in ectasy

Their long eternity of joy

At least we would not bring them down

With us the wind, with us the groan

No, Earth would wish no other sphere

To taste her cup of sufferings drear

She turns from Heaven with a careless eye

And only mourns that we must die

Ah mother, what shall comfort thee

In all this boundless misery

We would not leave our native home

To any world beyond the tomb

But who reads not through that tender glow

Thy deep, unspeakable sorrow

Indeed no dazzling land above

Can cheat thee of thy children's love

We all, in life's departing shine

Our last dear longings blend with thine

And struggle still and strive to trace

With clouded gaze, thy darling face

(Based on the poem “I See Around Me Tombstones Grey” by Emily Brontë)