NO Coward Soul Is Mine
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By Emily Bronte

No coward souls is mine,
No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere:
I see heavens glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

O God within my breast,
Almighty, Ever-Present Deity!
Life--That in me has rest,
As I--Undying Life--Have Power In Thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move mens hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by Thine Infinity;
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of immortality.

With wide-embracing love
The Spirit animates eternal years,
Prevades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears,

Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And thou were left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou--Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.