Well some may hate and some may scorn And some may quite forget thy name But my sad heart must ever mourn Thy ruined [heart]1, thy blighted fame Twas thus I thought an hour ago Even weeping in wretched woe One word turned back my gushing tears And lit my altered eye with sneers Then bless the friendly dust I said That hides thy late lamented head! Vain as thou wert, and weak as vain The slave of falsehood, pride and pain My heart is nought akin to thine Thy soul is powerless over mine But these were thoughts that vanished too Unwise, unholy, and untrue Do I despise the timid deer Because his limbs are fleet with fear? Or would I mock the wolf's death howl Because his form is gaunt and foul? Or hear with joy, the leverets cry Because it cannot bravely die? No! then above his memory Let Pity's heart as tender be Say 'Earth lie lightly on that breast And, kind Heaven, grant that spirit rest!
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Note: in the Fisk work, this is sung by Hareton
1 Bronte: "hope"
- by Emily Brontë (1818 - 1848) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Terry Fisk , "Well some may hate and some may scorn", published 2002 [voice, piano], from Wuthering Heights, no. 43. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Terry Fisk
This text was added to the website: 2004-03-22
Line count: 27
Word count: 171