Gloomily The Clouds Poem by Anne Brontë

Gloomily The Clouds

Rating: 2.9


Gloomily the clouds are sailing
O'er the dimly moonlit sky;
Dolefully the wind is wailing;
Not another sound is nigh;
Only I can hear it sweeping
Heathclad hill and woodland dale,
And at times the nights's sad weeping
Sounds above its dying wail.

Now the struggling moonbeams glimmer;
Now the shadows deeper fall,
Till the dim light, waxing dimmer,
Scarce reveals yon stately hall.

All beneath its roof are sleeping;
Such a silence reigns around
I can hear the cold rain steeping
Dripping roof and plashy ground.

No: not all are wrapped in slumber;
At yon chamber window stands
One whose years can scarce outnumber
The tears that dew his clasped hands.

From the open casement bending
He surveys the murky skies,
Dreary sighs his bosom rending;
Hot tears gushing from his eyes.

Now that Autumn's charms are dying,
Summer's glories long since gone,
Faded leaves on damp earth lying,
Hoary winter striding on, --

'Tis no marvel skies are lowering,
Winds are moaning thus around,
And cold rain, with ceaseless pouring,
Swells the streams and swamps the ground;

But such wild, such bitter grieving
Fits not slender boys like thee;
Such deep sighs should not be heaving
Breasts so young as thine must be.

Life with thee is only springing;
Summer in thy pathway lies;
Every day is nearer bringing
June's bright flowers and glowing skies.

Ah, he sees no brighter morrow!
He is not too young to prove
All the pain and all the sorrow
That attend the steps of love.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Subhas Chandra Chakra 30 March 2018

Such a silence reigns around I can hear the cold rain steeping Dripping roof and plashy ground. Wow, what a classic poem. But such wild, such bitter grieving Fits not slender boys like thee; Such deep sighs should not be heaving so young as thine must be. Pain seldom gets filtered with age. Thanks poet.

0 0 Reply
Susan Williams 02 February 2016

This is the very essence of a Gothic novel! Extremely well written and I want more! I want to know what happens next. I see some wuthering heights outlined by those gloomy clouds!

20 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Anne Brontë

Anne Brontë

Thornton, West Riding of Yorkshire, England
Close
Error Success