Emily Jane Brontë

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

The Wind Was Rough Which Tore - Poem by Emily Jane Brontë

The wind was rough which tore
That leaf from its parent tree
The fate was cruel which bore
The withering corpse to me

We wander on we have no rest
It is a dreary way

What shadow is it
That ever moves before [my] eyes
It has a brow of ghostly whiteness


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Read poems about / on: fate, tree, wind



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Poem Edited: Monday, December 19, 2011


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