Look On The Grave Where Thou Must

By This Curious Turn Of Disposition I Have Gained The Reputation Of Deliberate Heartlessness; How Undeserved, I Alone Can Appreciate.

He Had The Hypocrisy To Represent A Mourner: And Previous To Following With Hareton, He Lifted The Unfortunate Child On To The Table And Muttered, With Peculiar Gusto, 'now, My Bonny Lad, You Are Mine! And We'll See If One Tree Won't Grow As Crooked As Another, With The Same Wind To Twist It!

Lines I Die But When The Grave Shall Press The Heart So Long Endeared To Thee When Earthy Cares No More Distress And Earthy Joys Are Nought To Me. Weep Not, But Think That I Have Past Before Thee O'er The Sea Of Gloom. Have Anchored Safe And Rest At Last Where Tears And Mouring Can Not Come. 'tis I Should Weep To Leave Thee Here On That Dark Ocean Sailing Drear With Storms Around And Fears Before And No Kind Light To Point The Shore. But Long Or Short Though Life May Be 'tis Nothing To Eternity. We Part Below To Meet On High Where Blissful Ages Never Die.

That Is How I'm Loved! Well, Never Mind. That Is Not My Heathcliff. I Shall Love Mine Yet; And Take Him With Me: He's In My Soul.

The Old Church Tower And Garden Wall Are Black With Autumn Rain And Dreary Winds Foreboding Call The Darkness Down Again