Stanzas to -- -- Ellis Bell by Charlotte Brontë

Well, some may hate, and some may scorn, / And some may quite forget thy name; / But my sad heart must ever mourn / Thy ruined hopes, thy blighted fame! / 'Twas thus I thought, an hour ago, / Even weeping o'er that wretch's 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 unlamented head! / Vain as thou wert, and weak as vain, / The slave of Falsehood, Pride, and Pain -- / My heart has 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 leveret's 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! "