Oh! who could
wish to one so dear a destiny so dark?" She rose hastily from the
piano. "Did I hear Mr. Rochester's step by the window?" she said.
I crossed the room and looked out into the night. The brightening moon
hung golden in the dark clearness of the sky. Mr. Rochester stood
motionless, Napoleon-wise, beneath the black, unstirring foliage. And
before I could turn, Jane had begun to sing:--
You take my heart with tears;
I battle uselessly;
Reft of all hopes and doubts and fears,
Lie quietly.
You veil my heart with cloud;
Since faith is dim and blind,
I can but grope perplex'd and bow'd,
Seek till I find.
Yet bonds are life to me;
How else could I perceive
The love in each wild artery
That bids me live?
Jane's was not a rich voice, nor very sweet, and yet I fancied no
other voice than this could plead and argue quite so clearly and with
such nimble insistency--neither of bird, nor child, nor brook;
because, I suppose, it was the voice of Jane Eyre, and all that was
Jane's seemed Jane's only.
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