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My Soul is Awakened

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring,

And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;

For, above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring

Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.

The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,

The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;

The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,

The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.

Anne Bronte

Last Lines

A dreadful darkness closes in

On my bewildered mind;

O let me suffer and not sin,

Be tortured yet resigned.

Through all this world of whelming mist

Still let me look to Thee,

And give me courage to resist

The Tempter till he flee.

Anne Bronte

Lines composed in a Wood on a Windy Day

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring

And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;

For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,

Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.

The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,

The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;

The dead leaves, beneath them, are merrily dancing,

The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.

Anne Bronte

Lines Written at Thorp Green

That summer sun, whose genial glow

Now cheers my drooping spirit so

Must cold and distant be,

And only light our northern clime

With feeble ray, before the time

I long so much to see.

And this soft whispering breeze that now

So gently cools my fevered brow,

Anne Bronte

A Hymn

Eternal power of earth and air,

Unseen, yet seen in all around,

Remote, but dwelling everywhere,

Though silent, heard in every sound.

If e'er thine ear in mercy bent

When wretched mortals cried to thee,

And if indeed thy Son was sent

To save lost sinners such as me.

Anne Bronte

A Voice From The Dungeon

I'm buried now; I've done with life;

I've done with hate, revenge and strife;

I've done with joy, and hope and love

And all the bustling world above.

Long have I dwelt forgotten here

In pining woe and dull despair;

This place of solitude and gloom

Must be my dungeon and my tomb.

Anne Bronte

Weep Not Too Much

Weep not too much, my darling;

Sigh not too oft for me;

Say not the face of Nature

Has lost its charm for thee.

I have enough of anguish

In my own breast alone;

Thou canst not ease the burden, Love,

By adding still thine own.

Anne Bronte

Oh, they have robbed me of the hope

My spirit held so dear;

They will not let me hear that voice

My soul delights to hear.

They will not let me see that face

I so delight to see;

And they have taken all thy smiles,

And all thy love from me.

by Anne Bronte

A Prisoner in a Dungeon Deep

A prisoner in a dungeon deep

Sat musing silently;

His head was rested on his hand,

His elbow on his knee.

Turned he his thoughts to future times

Or are they backward cast?

For freedom is he pining now

Or mourning for the past?

Anne Bronte

Power of Love

Love, indeed thy strength is mighty

Thus, alone, such strife to bear —

Three 'gainst one, and never ceasing —

Death, and Madness, and Despair!

'Tis not my own strength has saved me;

Health, and hope, and fortitude,

But for love, had long since failed me;

Heart and soul had sunk subdued.

Anne Bronte

A Reminiscence

YES, thou art gone ! and never more

Thy sunny smile shall gladden me ;

But I may pass the old church door,

And pace the floor that covers thee.

May stand upon the cold, damp stone,

And think that, frozen, lies below

The lightest heart that I have known,

The kindest I shall ever know.

Anne Bronte

Night

I love the silent hour of night,

For blissful dreams may then arise,

Revealing to my charmed sight

What may not bless my waking eyes.

And then a voice may meet my ear,

That death has silenced long ago;

And hope and rapture may appear

Instead of solitude and woe.

Anne Bronte