Emily Brontë , "Often rebuked, yet always back returning"
Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning
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For idle dreams of things which cannot be:
Today, I will not seek the shadowy region;
Its unsustaining vastness waxes drear;
And visions rising, legion after legion,
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Bring the unreal world too strangely near.
I'll walk, but not in old heroic traces,
And not in paths of high morality,
And not among the half-distinguished faces,
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The clouded forms of long-past history.
I'll walk where my own nature would be leading:
It vexes me to choose another guide:
Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding;
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Where the wild wind blows on the mountain-side.
What have those lonely mountains worth revealing?
More glory, and more grief, than I can tell:
The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling
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Can centre both the worlds of Heaven and Hell.