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 )
Did you read them?
- Life is Nothing but Texture~, Mr. Nobody Nothing
- How Is Your Life In The Matrix?, Mr. Nobody Nothing
- That bench is my dear., Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Loneliness, Ashwini Annigeri
- समनि नायथाय- 25, Ronjoy Brahma
- I am not uttering, gajanan mishra
- Holy and pure, hasmukh amathalal
- For All The Love In Me, Sasha Claire Beckains
- Sick of Seeing So Much Violence on the S.., Hebert Logerie
- Tomar charan dhuli, ramesh rai
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- 1914 V: The Soldier, Rupert Brooke
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 March 1926 – 25 July 1966)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
- Heather Burns
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)