Emily Jane Brontë
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.
Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;
Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;
But, within its parent's kindly bosom,
Flowed for ever Life's restoring-tide.
Little mourned I for the parted gladness,
For the vacant nest and silent song -
Hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;
Whispering, ' Winter will not linger long!'
And, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,
Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;
Wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing,
Lavished glory on that second May!
High it rose - no winged grief could sweep it;
Sin was scared to distance with its shine;
Love, and its own life, had power to keep it
From all wrong - from every blight but thine!
Cruel Death! The young leaves droop and languish;
Evening's gentle air may still restore -
No! the morning sunshine mocks my anguish -
Time, for me, must never blossom more!
Strike it down, that other boughs may flourish
Where that perished sapling used to be;
Thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish
That from which it sprung - Eternity.
Emily Jane Brontë's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Death, that struck when I was most confiding by Emily Jane Brontë )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- WH Auden
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Henry Scott Holland
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
- Francis Duggan
(17 June 1867 – 2 September 1922)
William Makepeace Thackeray
Walter de la Mare
(1873 - 1958)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Fur.., Anne Sexton
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
- As I was walking, Walter de la Mare
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Selecting A Reader, Ted Kooser
- Million Man March Poem, Maya Angelou
- Little Billee, William Makepeace Thackeray
- Refugee Blues, WH Auden
- Tonight I can write the saddest lines, Pablo Neruda