Emily Brontë

1What sacramental hurt that brings
2The terror of the truth of things
3Had changed thee? Secret be it yet.
4'T was thine, upon a headland set,
5To view no isles of man's delight,
6With lyric foam in rainbow flight,
7But all a-swing, a-gleam, mid slow uproar,
8Black sea, and curved uncouth sea-bitten shore.
Publication Notes: 
Guiney, Louise Imogen, Happy Endings: The Collected Lyrics of Louise Imogen Guiney (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1927): 135.
RPO poem Editors: 
Ian Lancashire