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A Word To The Calvinists

You may rejoice to think yourselves secure,

You may be grateful for the gift divine,

That grace unsought which made your black hearts pure

And fits your earthborn souls in Heaven to shine.

But is it sweet to look around and view

Thousands excluded from that happiness,

Which they deserve at least as much as you,

Their faults not greater nor their virtues less?

by Anne Bronte

Fluctuations

What though the Sun had left my sky;

To save me from despair

The blessed Moon arose on high,

And shone serenely there.

I watched her, with a tearful gaze,

Rise slowly o'er the hill,

While through the dim horizon's haze

Her light gleamed faint and chill.

by Anne Bronte

Gloomily the Clouds

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.

by Anne Bronte

Farewell

Farewell to thee! but not farewell

To all my fondest thoughts of thee:

Within my heart they still shall dwell;

And they shall cheer and comfort me.

O, beautiful, and full of grace!

If thou hadst never met mine eye,

I had not dreamed a living face

Could fancied charms so far outvie.

by Anne Bronte

If This Be All

O God! if this indeed be all

That Life can show to me;

If on my aching brow may fall

No freshening dew from Thee;

If with no brighter light than this

The lamp of hope may glow,

And I may only dream of bliss,

And wake to weary woe;

by Anne Bronte

Confidence

Oppressed with sin and woe,

A burdened heart I bear,

Opposed by many a mighty foe:

But I will not despair.

With this polluted heart

I dare to come to Thee,

Holy and mighty as Thou art;

For Thou wilt pardon me.

by Anne Bronte

The Penitent

I mourn with thee, and yet rejoice

That thou shouldst sorrow so;

With angel choirs I join my voice

To bless the sinner's woe.

Though friends and kindred turn away,

And laugh thy grief to scorn;

I hear the great Redeemer say,

"Blessed are ye that mourn."

by Anne Bronte

Self-congratulation

Ellen, you were thoughtless once

Of beauty or of grace,

Simple and homely in attire,

Careless of form and face;

Then whence this change? and wherefore now

So often smoothe your hair?

And wherefore deck your youthful form

With such unwearied care?

by Anne Bronte

A Fragment

'Maiden, thou wert thoughtless once

Of beauty or of grace,

Simple and homely in attire

Careless of form and face.

Then whence this change, and why so oft

Dost smooth thy hazel hair?

And wherefore deck thy youthful form

With such unwearied care?

by Anne Bronte

Lines Written From Home

Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground,

With fallen leaves so thickly strewn,

And cold the wind that wanders round

With wild and melancholy moan;

There is a friendly roof I know,

Might shield me from the wintry blast;

There is a fire whose ruddy glow

Will cheer me for my wanderings past.

by Anne Bronte

A Word To The 'Elect'

You may rejoice to think yourselves secure;

You may be grateful for the gift divine —

That grace unsought, which made your black hearts pure,

And fits your earth-born souls in Heaven to shine.

But, is it sweet to look around, and view

Thousands excluded from that happiness,

Which they deserved, at least, as much as you, —

Their faults not greater, nor their virtues less?

by Anne Bronte

Despondency

I have gone backward in the work,

The labour has not sped,

Drowsy and dark my spirit lies,

Heavy and dull as lead.

How can I rouse my sinking soul

From such a lethargy?

How can I break these iron chains,

And set my spirit free?

by Anne Bronte