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lyrics

Day is done,
The winter sun is setting in its sullen sky,
And drear the course
That has been run, and dim the beams that slowly die.

No star will light
My coming night; no morn of hope for me will shine.
I mourn not heaven
Would blast my sight; I never longed for joys divine.

The grief that pressed
My aching breast was heavier far than earth can be;
And who would dread
Eternal rest when labor's hour was agony?

No sighs for me,
No sympathy, no wish to keep my soul below;
The heart is dead
In infancy, unwept for let the body go.

Emily Bronte

credits

from The Price of Admission, released October 28, 2023

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