Explore "Apostasy. Currer Bell" by Charlotte Brontë on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
This last denial of my faith, / Thou, solemn Priest, hast heard; / And, though upon my bed of death, / I call not back a word. / Point not to thy Madonna, Priest, -- / Thy sightless saint of stone; / She cannot, from this burning breast, / Wring one repentant moan.
Thou say'st, that when a sinless child, / I duly bent the knee, / And prayed to what in marble smiled / Cold, lifeless, mute, on me. / I did. But listen! Children spring / Full soon to riper youth; / And, for Love's vow and Wedlock's ring, / I sold my early truth.