That wind I used to hear it swelling
With joy divinely deep
You might have seen my hot tears welling
But rapture made me weep
I used to love on winter nights
To lie and dream alone
Of all the hopes and real delights
My early years had known
And oh above the rest of those
That coming time should [bear]
Like heaven's own glorious stars they rose
Still beaming bright and fair
The poem has a good flavour....though not rated quite highly but still for me this is quite a good work.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this poem... One of my favorites of Emily Bronte. She has a beautifully wild essence about her.