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letra de charlotte bronte - he saw my heart's woe - anna bentinick

he saw my heart’s woe, discovered my soul’s anguish
how in fever, in thirst, in atrophy it pined;
knew he could heal, yet looked and let it languish,—
to its moans spirit-deaf, to its pangs spirit-blind

but once a year he heard a whisper low and dreary
appealing for aid, entreating some reply;
only when sick, soul-worn, and torture-weary
breathed i that prayer, heaved i that sigh

he was mute as is the grave, he stood stirless as a tower;
at last i looked up, and saw i prayed to stone:
i asked help of that which to help had no power
i sought love where love was utterly unknown

idolator i kneeled to an idol cut in rock!
i might have slashed my flesh and drawn my heart’s best blood:
the granite god had felt no tenderness, no shock;
my baal had not seen nor heard nor understood

in dark remorse i rose: i rose in darker shame;
self-condemned i withdrew to an exile from my kind;
a solitude i sought where mortal never came
hoping in its wilds forgetfulness to find

now, heaven, heal the wound which i still deeply feel;
thy glorious hosts look not in scorn on our poor race;
thy king eternal doth no iron judgement deal
on suffering worms who seek forgiveness, comfort, grace
he gave our hearts to love: he will not love despise
e’en if the gift be lost, as mine was long ago;
he will forgive the fault, will bid the offender rise
wash out with dews of bliss the fiery brand of woe;

and give a sheltered place beneath the unsullied throne
whence the soul redeemed may mark time’s fleeting course round earth;
and know its trials overpast, its sufferings gone
and feel the peril past of death’s immortal birth

- anna bentinick

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