Anne Brontë Poems
|42.||Severed And Gone||12/31/2002|
|48.||The Captive Dove||12/31/2002|
|49.||The Captive's Dream||12/31/2002|
|51.||The Doubter's Prayer||12/31/2002|
|52.||The Narrow Way||12/31/2002|
|53.||The North Wind||12/31/2002|
|55.||The Parting (2)||12/31/2002|
|57.||The Student's Serenade||12/31/2002|
|58.||The Three Guides||12/31/2002|
|61.||Vanitas Vanitatis, Etc.||12/31/2002|
|62.||Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas||12/31/2002|
|63.||Verses By Lady Geralda||12/31/2002|
|64.||Verses To A Child||12/31/2002|
|65.||Views Of Life||12/31/2002|
|66.||Weep Not Too Much||12/31/2002|
|67.||Yes Thou Art Gone||12/31/2002|
Comments about Anne Brontë
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, ...
We know where deepest lies the snow,
And where the frost-winds keenest blow,
O'er every mountain's brow,
We long have known and learnt to bear
The wandering outlaw's toil and care,
But where we late were hunted, there
Our foes are hunted now.
We have their princely homes, and they
To our wild haunts are chased away,