Speak of the North! A Lonely Moor
Speak of the North! A lonely moor
Silent and dark and tractless swells,
The waves of some wild streamlet pour
Hurriedly through its ferny dells.
Profoundly still the twilight air,
Lifeless the landscape; so we deem
Till like a phantom gliding near
A stag bends down to drink the stream.
And far away a mountain zone,
A cold, white waste of snow-drifts lies,
And one star, large and soft and lone,
Silently lights the unclouded skies.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Speak of the North! A Lonely Moor by Charlotte Brontë )
- Love is, hasmukh amathalal
- Before A Dream, Tony Adah
- Words Worn-Out, Birgitta Heikka
- Gift of love, ramesh rai
- Tides And Emotions., Marcondes Pereira
- Morning Coffee, Bill Grace
- Happenstance Things, Patti Masterman
- Loot-Hoot-Shoot, Aftab Alam
- The Children See Colors, Hebert Logerie
- Ulterior motive, hasmukh amathalal