Emily Jane Bronte: Все стихи поэта

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Loud without the wind was roaring

Through th'autumnal sky;

Drenching wet, the cold rain pouring,

Spoke of winter nigh.

All too like that dreary eve,

Did my exiled spirit grieve.

Grieved at first, but grieved not long,

Sweet—how softly sweet!—it came;

by Emily Jane Bronte

How Clear She Shines

How clear she shines! How quietly

I lie beneath her guardian light;

While heaven and earth are whispering me,

"To morrow, wake, but dream to-night."

Yes, Fancy, come, my Fairy love!

These throbbing temples softly kiss;

And bend my lonely couch above,

And bring me rest, and bring me bliss.

by Emily Jane Bronte

Encouragement

I do not weep; I would not weep;

Our mother needs no tears:

Dry thine eyes, too; 'tis vain to keep

This causeless grief for years.

What though her brow be changed and cold,

Her sweet eyes closed for ever?

What though the stone—the darksome mould

Our mortal bodies sever?

by Emily Jane Bronte

Plead For Me

OH, thy bright eyes must answer now,

When Reason, with a scornful brow,

Is mocking at my overthrow !

Oh, thy sweet tongue must plead for me

And tell why I have chosen thee !

Stern Reason is to judgment come,

Arrayed in all her forms of gloom :

Wilt thou, my advocate, be dumb ?

by Emily Jane Bronte

Ladybird! Ladybird!

Ladybird! Ladybird! Fly away home,

Night is approaching, and sunset is come:

Felt, but unseen, the damp dewdrops fall.

This is the close of a still summer day;

Ladybird! Ladybird! haste! fly away!

by Emily Jane Bronte

Death, that struck when I was most confiding

Death! that struck when I was most confiding.

In my certain faith of joy to be—

Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing

From the fresh root of Eternity!

Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,

Full of sap, and full of silver dew;

Birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;

Daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.

by Emily Jane Bronte

At Castle Wood

The day is done, the winter sun

Is setting in its sullen sky;

And drear the course that has been run,

And dim the hearts that slowly die.

No star will light my coming night;

No morn of hope for me will shine;

I mourn not heaven would blast my sight,

And I ne'er longed for joys divine.

by Emily Jane Bronte

Last Words

I knew not 'twas so dire a crime

To say the word, "Adieu;"

But this shall be the only time

My lips or heart shall sue.

That wild hill-side, the winter morn,

The gnarled and ancient tree,

If in your breast they waken scorn,

Shall wake the same in me.

by Emily Jane Bronte

The Sun Has Set

The sun has set, and the long grass now

Waves dreamily in the evening wind;

And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone

In some warm nook a couch to find.

In all the lonely landscape round

I see no light and hear no sound,

Except the wind that far away

Come sighing o'er the healthy sea.

by Emily Jane Bronte

Anticipation

How beautiful the earth is still,

To thee—how full of happiness?

How little fraught with real ill,

Or unreal phantoms of distress!

How spring can bring thee glory, yet,

And summer win thee to forget

December's sullen time!

Why dost thou hold the treasure fast,

by Emily Jane Bronte

The Old Stoic

Riches I hold in light esteem,

And love I laugh to scorn;

And lust of fame was but a dream

That vanish'd with the morn:

And if I pray, the only prayer

That moves my lips for me

Is, "Leave the heart that now I bear,

And give me liberty!"

by Emily Jane Bronte

A Little Budding Rose

It was a little budding rose,

Round like a fairy globe,

And shyly did its leaves unclose

Hid in their mossy robe,

But sweet was the slight and spicy smell

It breathed from its heart invisible.

The rose is blasted, withered, blighted,

Its root has felt a worm,

by Emily Jane Bronte