Author Emily Bronti Heaven's glory shone where he was laid In life's decline. I turned me from that young saint's bed To gaze on thine. It was a summer day that saw His spirit's flight; Thine parted in a time of awe, Winter-night, A Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments