Anne Brontë

(7 January 1820 – 28 May 1849 / Thornton, West Riding of Yorkshire, England)

Dreams - Poem by 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,

To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last,
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!

But then to wake and find it flown,
The dream of happiness destroyed,
To find myself unloved, alone,
What tongue can speak the dreary void?

A heart whence warm affections flow,
Creator, thou hast given to me,
And am I only thus to know
How sweet the joys of love would be?

Topic(s) of this poem: dreams


Comments about Dreams by Anne Brontë

  • Amar Agarwala (3/22/2017 7:52:00 PM)


    Motherly love, affections and the myth of a fleeting dream.... so beautifully expressed. The rhyme, rhythm and meter almost perfect. (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Paul Amrod (3/22/2017 6:19:00 PM)


    A very heartfelt and expressive piece evoking the internal reception of love in an evocative way. (Report) Reply

  • Geeta Radhakrishna Menon (3/22/2017 12:22:00 PM)


    A heart whence warm affections flow,
    Creator, thou hast given to me,
    And am I only thus to know
    How sweet the joys of love would be?

    A sweet poem full of joy and warmth of love. Enjoyed reading it.
    (Report) Reply

  • Anil Kumar Panda (3/22/2017 10:41:00 AM)


    There is a wide difference between dream and reality. Loved the poem for its flow and concept. (Report) Reply

  • Ingeborg Von Finsterwalde (3/22/2017 6:20:00 AM)


    She was only 29 years old when she died in 1849. I hope she was loved because her words speak beautifully of it. (Report) Reply

  • Tom Allport (3/22/2017 3:06:00 AM)


    we all dream of things of what we desire and then wake up to the reality of life's quagmire? ....a beautifully written poem. (Report) Reply

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (3/22/2017 1:32:00 AM)


    Looks of love to see.... thanks for sharing.... (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (3/22/2017 1:29:00 AM)


    Pleasures of its own. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

  • Sylva-onyema Uba (3/22/2017 12:58:00 AM)


    Poem embellished with a musical flow of
    rhyme and rhythm.
    Nice piece.

    Sylva
    (Report) Reply

  • (3/22/2017 12:25:00 AM)


    To think my heart has found a rest
    My life of solitude is past
    Wonderful soothing effect of dreams. Thanks for sharing it here.
    (Report) Reply

  • Ronald Strickland (3/22/2017 12:23:00 AM)


    This poem is awesome. What a wonderful way to relate to new life with love (Report) Reply

  • Ronald Strickland (3/22/2017 12:11:00 AM)


    What a wonderful welcome and love for a new life. (Report) Reply

Read all 12 comments »




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Read poems about / on: solitude, alone, happiness, lonely, smile, mother, dream, heart, love, life, joy, rose



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Poem Edited: Thursday, December 18, 2014


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