Charlotte Brontë
Yorkshire, England
Charlotte Brontë
Yorkshire, England
Poems
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1.
Life
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LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
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So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
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2.
Pleasure
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A Short Poem or Else Not Say I
True pleasure breathes not city air,
Nor in Art's temples dwells,
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True pleasure breathes not city air,
Nor in Art's temples dwells,
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3.
Parting
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THERE'S no use in weeping,
Though we are condemned to part:
There's such a thing as keeping
A remembrance in one's heart:
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Though we are condemned to part:
There's such a thing as keeping
A remembrance in one's heart:
...
4.
On The Death Of Anne Brontë
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THERE 's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave ;
I 've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.
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And little terror in the grave ;
I 've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.
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5.
Passion
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SOME have won a wild delight,
By daring wilder sorrow;
Could I gain thy love to-night,
I'd hazard death to-morrow.
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By daring wilder sorrow;
Could I gain thy love to-night,
I'd hazard death to-morrow.
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6.
Regret
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Long ago I wished to leave
" The house where I was born; "
Long ago I used to grieve,
My home seemed so forlorn.
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" The house where I was born; "
Long ago I used to grieve,
My home seemed so forlorn.
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7.
Winter Stores
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WE take from life one little share,
And say that this shall be
A space, redeemed from toil and care,
From tears and sadness free.
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And say that this shall be
A space, redeemed from toil and care,
From tears and sadness free.
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8.
Evening Solace
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THE human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
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In secret kept, in silence sealed;
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
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9.
Speak Of The North! A Lonely Moor
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Speak of the North! A lonely moor
Silent and dark and tractless swells,
The waves of some wild streamlet pour
Hurriedly through its ferny dells.
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Silent and dark and tractless swells,
The waves of some wild streamlet pour
Hurriedly through its ferny dells.
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4/16/2021 1:26:14 PM # 1.0.0.559
