Sweet Love Of Youth, Forgive, If I

He Had The Hypocrisy To Represent A Mourner: And Previous To Following With Hareton, He Lifted The Unfortunate Child On To The Table And Muttered, With Peculiar Gusto, 'now, My Bonny Lad, You Are Mine! And We'll See If One Tree Won't Grow As Crooked As Another, With The Same Wind To Twist It!

Heaven Did Not Seem To Be My Home; And I Broke My Heart With Weeping To Come Back To Earth; And The Angels Were So Angry That They Flung Me Out Into The Middle Of The Heath On The Top Of Wuthering Heights; Where I Woke Sobbing For Joy.

I Am Now Quite Cured Of Seeking Pleasure In Society, Be It Country Or Town.

I'm Wearying To Escape Into That Glorious World, And To Be Always There; Not Seeing It Dimly Through Tears, And Yearning For It Through The Walls Of An Aching Heart; But Really With It, And In It.

They Forgot Everything The Minute They Were Together Again.