Emily Jane Brontë

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

Emily Jane Brontë Poems

1. Past, Present, Future 6/17/2015
2. The Wanderer From The Fold 3/27/2012
3. Oh, Thy Bright Eyes Must Answer Now 12/19/2011
4. R. Alcona To J. Brenzaida 12/19/2011
5. The Elder's Rebuke 3/27/2012
6. Warning And Reply 3/27/2012
7. Well Hast Thou Spoke 12/19/2011
8. The Prisoner. A Fragment 12/19/2011
9. Riches I Hold In Light Esteem 12/19/2011
10. Loud Without The Wind Was Roaring 3/27/2012
11. The Lady To Her Guitar 3/27/2012
12. Oh, For The Time When I Shall Sleep 12/19/2011
13. The Two Children 12/19/2011
14. Silent Is The House 12/19/2011
15. Encouragement 3/27/2012
16. Stanzas To - 12/31/2002
17. Speak, God Of Visions 1/1/2004
18. [long Neglect Has Worn Away] 12/19/2011
19. Plead For Me 12/31/2002
20. The Philosopher 12/31/2002
21. Prisoner, The - (A Fragment) 12/31/2002
22. Song 12/31/2002
23. Often Rebuked, Yet Always Back Returning 12/19/2011
24. Ah! Why, Because The Dazzling Sun 12/19/2011
25. My Lady's Grave 1/1/2004
26. The Night - Wind 12/31/2002
27. Self-Interrogation 12/31/2002
28. The Wind Was Rough Which Tore 12/31/2002
29. Shall Earth No More Inspire Thee 12/31/2002
30. How Beautiful The Earth Is Still 12/19/2011
31. My Comforter 12/31/2002
32. 'Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place' 12/31/2002
33. Moonlight, Summer Moonlight 1/1/2004
34. A Little While, A Little While, 12/31/2002
35. Honour's Martyr 12/31/2002
36. The Prisoner 1/3/2003
37. Stanzas 12/31/2002
38. The Sun Has Set 12/31/2002
39. Mild The Mist Upon The Hill 1/3/2003
40. Far, Far Away Is Mirth Withdrawn 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Emily Jane Brontë

I Am The Only Being Whose Doom

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure - secret tears
This changeful life has slipped away
As friendless after eighteen years
As lone as on my natal day

There have been times I cannot hide
There have been times when this was drear
When my sad soul forgot its pride
And longed for one to love me here

But those were in the early glow
Of feelings since subdued by care
And they have died so long ago
I hardly now believe they ...

Read the full of I Am The Only Being Whose Doom

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,
Of youth's delight, when youth is past,

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