I've watched thee every hour — I know my mighty sway — I know my magic power To drive thy griefs away — - Emily Brontë

"Good words," I replied. "But deeds must prove it also; and after he is well, remember you don't forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear."

Reason, indeed, may oft complain For Nature's sad reality, And tell the suffering heart, how vain Its cherished dreams must always be; And Truth may rudely trample down The flowers of Fancy, newly-blown:

She was a wild, wicked slip of a girl. She burned too brightly for this world.