Anne Brontë Poems
|42.||Verses To A Child||12/31/2002|
|43.||Lines Written From Home||12/31/2002|
|44.||Call Me Away||12/31/2002|
|45.||Monday Night May 11th 1846 / Domestic Peace||12/31/2002|
|49.||Music On Christmas Morning||12/31/2002|
|50.||The Captive's Dream||12/31/2002|
|52.||A Prisoner In A Dungeon Deep||12/31/2002|
|53.||Gloomily The Clouds||12/31/2002|
|54.||If This Be All||12/31/2002|
|60.||Oh, They Have Robbed Me Of The Hope||12/31/2002|
|61.||The Captive Dove||12/31/2002|
|62.||In Memory Of A Happy Day In February||12/31/2002|
|63.||Alexander And Zenobia||12/31/2002|
|66.||A Voice From The Dungeon||12/31/2002|
Comments about Anne Brontë
Farewell to thee! but not farewell
To all my fondest thoughts of thee:
Within my heart they still shall dwell;
And they shall cheer and comfort me.
O, beautiful, and full of grace!
If thou hadst never met mine eye,
I had not dreamed a living face
Could fancied charms so far outvie.
If I may ne'er behold again
That form and face so dear to me,
Nor hear thy voice, still would I fain
Preserve, for aye, their memory.
That voice, the magic of whose tone
Can wake an echo in my breast,
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;