In the earth, the earth, thou shalt be laid,
A grey stone standing over thee;
Black mould beneath thee spread
And black mould to cover thee.

“Well, there is rest there,
So fast come thy prophecy;
The time when my sunny hair
Shall with grass roots twinèd be.”*

But cold, cold is that resting place,
Shut out from Joy and Liberty,
And all who loved thy living face
Will shrink from its gloom and thee.*

“Not so:here the world is chill,
And sworn friends fall from me;
Butthere , they'll own me still*
And prize my memory.”

Farewell, then, all that love,
All that deep sympathy:
Sleep on; heaven laughs above,
Earth never misses thee.

Turf-sod and tombstone drear
Part human company;
One heart broke only there—*
That heart was worthy thee!*
Pencilled on the manuscript in Charlotte Brontë's handwriting are the title “Warning and Reply” and the differences in the text of the poem as printed in 1850.