Emily Jane Brontë

(30 July 1818 – 19 December 1848 / Thornton / Yorkshire)

Death, That Struck When I Was Most Confiding - Poem by Emily Jane Brontë

Death! that struck when I was most confiding
In my certain faith of joy to be -
Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing
From the fresh root of Eternity!

Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,
Full of sap, and full of silver dew;
Birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;
Daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.

Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;
Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;
But, within its parent's kindly bosom,
Flowed for ever Life's restoring-tide.

Little mourned I for the parted gladness,
For the vacant nest and silent song -
Hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;
Whispering, ' Winter will not linger long!'

And, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,
Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;
Wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing,
Lavished glory on that second May!

High it rose - no winged grief could sweep it;
Sin was scared to distance with its shine;
Love, and its own life, had power to keep it
From all wrong - from every blight but thine!

Cruel Death! The young leaves droop and languish;
Evening's gentle air may still restore -
No! the morning sunshine mocks my anguish -
Time, for me, must never blossom more!

Strike it down, that other boughs may flourish
Where that perished sapling used to be;
Thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish
That from which it sprung - Eternity.


Comments about Death, That Struck When I Was Most Confiding by Emily Jane Brontë

  • Heather Babcock (11/11/2017 3:17:00 PM)


    May your grandmother rest in peace! 💘LOVE💘Always And Forever Heather! (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sunshine, grief, faith, pride, silver, winter, sorrow, death, spring, power, rose, rain, song, beauty, joy, hope, time, wind, life, flower



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Poem Edited: Monday, December 19, 2011


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