Languish

Tell me, tell me, smiling child,

What the past is like to thee ?

'An Autumn evening soft and mild

With a wind that sighs mournfully.’

 

Tell me, what is the present hour ?

'A green and flowery spray

Where a young bird sits gathering its power

To mount and fly away.’

 

And what is the future, happy one ?

'A sea beneath a cloudless sun ;

A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea

Stretching into infinity.’

 

Emily Brontë

 

Texture: Shadowhouse.

Done