Anne Brontë

(7 January 1820 – 28 May 1849 / Thornton, West Riding of Yorkshire, England)

Anne Brontë Poems

41. Night 12/31/2002
42. Music On Christmas Morning 12/31/2002
43. The Doubter's Prayer 12/31/2002
44. Fragment 12/31/2002
45. Fluctuations 12/31/2002
46. Verses To A Child 12/31/2002
47. Call Me Away 12/31/2002
48. Monday Night May 11th 1846 / Domestic Peace 12/31/2002
49. A Hymn 12/31/2002
50. Appeal 12/31/2002
51. If This Be All 12/31/2002
52. The Captive's Dream 12/31/2002
53. Gloomily The Clouds 12/31/2002
54. A Prisoner In A Dungeon Deep 12/31/2002
55. Retirement 12/31/2002
56. Confidence 12/31/2002
57. The Captive Dove 12/31/2002
58. Despondency 12/31/2002
59. A Reminiscence 5/10/2001
60. Oh, They Have Robbed Me Of The Hope 12/31/2002
61. A Prayer 1/3/2003
62. The Bluebell 12/31/2002
63. In Memory Of A Happy Day In February 12/31/2002
64. Alexander And Zenobia 12/31/2002
65. Home 12/31/2002
66. A Voice From The Dungeon 12/31/2002
67. Farewell 12/31/2002
68. Dreams 12/31/2002

Comments about Anne Brontë

  • Manideep (9/9/2018 9:13:00 AM)

    I love the lines composed on a windy day

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  • Mayank Shah (5/18/2018 9:17:00 AM)

    Nice....kindly check my poem give your views about it

  • Wanu Xwl (5/10/2017 3:48:00 PM)

    Anne Bronte is my favourite poet and her language uses in poems is attractive

  • Loyo Rita (3/12/2013 5:14:00 PM)

    Anne is one of my favourite writers. Love her masterpiece 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall'.
    P.S. The picture used here is the portrait of Anne's sister Charlotte, not Anne herself. Please change it.

  • Loyo Rita (3/12/2013 5:12:00 PM)

    Anne is one of my favourite writers. Love her masterpiece 'The Tenant of Wildfell Hall'.
    P.S. The picture used here is the portrait of Anne's sister Charlotte, not Anne herself. Please change it.

Best Poem of Anne Brontë

Dreams

While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
Then I may cherish at my breast
An infant's form beloved and fair,
May smile and soothe it into rest
With all a Mother's fondest care.

How sweet to feel its helpless form
Depending thus on me alone!
And while I hold it safe and warm
What bliss to think it is my own!

And glances then may meet my eyes
That daylight never showed to me;
What raptures in my bosom rise,
Those earnest looks of love to see, ...

Read the full of Dreams

Song 2

Come to the banquet -- triumph in your songs!
Strike up the chords -- and sing of Victory!
The oppressed have risen to redress their wrongs;
The Tyrants are o'erthrown; the Land is free!
The Land is free! Aye, shout it forth once more;
Is she not red with her oppressors' gore?
We are her champions -- shall we not rejoice?
Are not the tyrants' broad domains our own?
Then wherefore triumph with a faltering voice;

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