Emily Brontë

I FOUND her workbox on the sill,
A faded sampler on the wall,
Her grave before an altar rail.
But these detained her least of all.
I followed her across the moor
Where roving purple streaked the brown
Wind-haunted moor. I followed her
Beyond the keep of Haworth town.
There was no tracing of her name.
Only the wind and I together
Disturbed this wasteland. Yet I came
Fearfully back through purple heather.