Charlotte Brontë

(21 April 1816 – 31 March 1855 / Yorkshire, England)

Charlotte Brontë Poems

1. The Missionary 5/10/2001
2. The Wife's Will 5/10/2001
3. The Wood 5/10/2001
4. Gilbert 5/10/2001
5. The Letter 5/10/2001
6. Presentiment 5/10/2001
7. Apostasy 5/10/2001
8. Preference 5/10/2001
9. The Teacher's Monologue 5/10/2001
10. Pilate's Wife's Dream 5/10/2001
11. Frances 5/10/2001
12. Stanzas 5/10/2001
13. Speak Of The North! A Lonely Moor 12/31/2002
14. Mementos 5/10/2001
15. Winter Stores 5/10/2001
16. Evening Solace 5/10/2001
17. Regret 12/31/2002
18. Pleasure 12/31/2002
19. Passion 5/10/2001
20. Parting 5/10/2001
21. On The Death Of Anne Brontë 5/10/2001
22. Life 5/10/2001

Comments about Charlotte Brontë

  • Harkeerat (1/30/2019 5:11:00 AM)

    Where's is the poem called Retrospective? It's one of the best I've ever read, sad to see it's not here

    1 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • claudette parazoo (1/18/2019 10:14:00 AM)

    Reality at its it. I like to feel a kick in the teeth once in awhile...bite hard when it hits you. There are lies, so soothing, and we are so gullible. Charlotte Bronte is an author whose truth is ours to construe.

    2 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Big Jim (12/6/2018 11:38:00 AM)

    I love poetry........................................................

    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Najeeb (10/18/2018 2:52:00 PM)

    masu anamiy trumaine madamme azzelle. Jha suitee montaguada. Bronte Charlotte.

    1 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Rays Sparkle (7/3/2010 3:48:00 AM)

    A Motherly woman with a poetess' heart

    29 person liked.
    20 person did not like.
Best Poem of Charlotte Brontë

On The Death Of Anne Brontë

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.

Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last ;
Longing to see the shade of death
O'er those belovèd features cast.

The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me ;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently ;

Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life ;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,

Read the full of On The Death Of Anne Brontë


Long ago I wished to leave
" The house where I was born; "
Long ago I used to grieve,
My home seemed so forlorn.
In other years, its silent rooms
Were filled with haunting fears;
Now, their very memory comes
O'ercharged with tender tears.

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