It Is For God To Punish Wicked

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly?

Yes, As My Swift Days Near Their Goal, 'tis All That I Implore: In Life And Death A Chainless Soul, With Courage To Endure.

My Love For Linton Is Like The Foliage In The Woods. Time Will Changeit,i'mwellaware, Aswinterchangesthetrees. My Love For Heathcliff Resembles The Eternal Rocks Beneatha Source Of Little Visible Delight But Necessary. Nelly, I Am Heathcliff.

And, Even Yet, I Dare Not Let It Languish, Dare Not Indulge In Memory's Rapturous Pain; Once Drinking Deep Of That Divinest Anguish, How Could I Seek The Empty World Again?

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same.