love the earth

Alone I sat, the summer day
Had died in smiling light away;
I saw it die, i watched it fade
From misty hill and breezeless glade,

And thoughts in my soul were rushing
And my heart bowed beneath their power
And tears within my eyes were gushing
Because I could not speak the feeling
The solemn joy around me stealing
In that divine untroubled hour.

I asked my self, O why has heaven
Denied the precious gift to me,
The glorious gift to many given
To speak their thoughts in poetry?
Dream have encircled, I said,
From careless childhood's sunny time,
Visions by ardent fancy fed
Since life was in its morning prime.

But now when I had hoped to sing
My fingers strike a tuneless string
And still the burden of the strain
Is: Strive no more, 'tis all in vain.

(EMILY JANE BRONTË, EVERY MAN'S POETRY)