Oh, They Have Robbed Me Of The Hope
By Anne Bronte
Oh, they have robbed me of the hope
My spirit held so dear;
They will not let me hear that voice
My soul delights to hear.
They will not let me see that face
I so delight to see;
And they have taken all thy smiles,
And all thy love from me.
Well, let them seize on all they can:
One treasure still is mine,
A heart that loves to think on thee,
And feels the worth of thine.