Mild The Mist Upon The Hill Poem by Emily Jane Brontë
Mild The Mist Upon The Hill
Mild the mist upon the hill
Telling not of storms tomorrow;
No, the day has wept its fill,
Spent its store of silent sorrow.
O, I'm gone back to the days of youth,
I am a child once more,
And 'neath my father's sheltering roof
And near the old hall door
I watch this cloudy evening fall
After a day of rain;
Blue mists, sweet mists of summer pall
The horizon's mountain chain.
The damp stands on the long green grass
As thick as morning's tears,
And dreamy scents of fragrance pass
That breathe of other years.
I am a child once more, And 'neath my father's sheltering roof.....how often have I felt like this!
Beautiful, beautiful poem. So tenderly and wonderfully crafted and executed. Superb imagery.
A beautiful creation nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm.............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 9:31:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I am child once more