Emily Jane Brontë

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

'Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place' - Poem by Emily Jane Brontë

Yes, holy be thy resting place
Wherever thou may'st lie;
The sweetest winds breathe on thy face,
The softest of the sky.

And will not guardian Angles send
Kind dreams and thoughts of love,
Though I no more may watchful bend
Thy longed repose above?

And will not heaven itself bestow
A beam of glory there
That summer's grass more green may grow,
And summer's flowers more fair?

Farewell, farewell, 'tis hard to part
Yet, loved one, it must be:
I would not rend another heart
Not even by blessing thee.

Go! We must break affection's chain,
Forget the hopes of years:
Nay, grieve not - willest thou remain
To waken wilder tears

This herald breeze with thee and me,
Roved in the dawning day:
And thou shouldest be where it shall be
Ere evening, far away.


Comments about 'Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place' by Emily Jane Brontë

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: farewell, summer, green, heaven, sky, heart, flower, hope, wind, dream



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



[Report Error]