Frances (Charlotte Bronte Poem)
SHE will not sleep, for fear of dreams, But, rising, quits her restless bed, And walks where some beclouded beams ...
SHE will not sleep, for fear of dreams, But, rising, quits her restless bed, And walks where some beclouded beams ...
IF thou be in a lonely place, If one hour's calm be thine, As Evening bends her placid face O'er ...
Lough, vessel, plough the British main, Seek the free ocean's wider plain; Leave English scenes and English skies, Unbind, dissever ...
WE take from life one little share, And say that this shall be A space, redeemed from toil and care, ...
THIS last denial of my faith, Thou, solemn Priest, hast heard; And, though upon my bed of death, I call ...
NOT in scorn do I reprove thee, Not in pride thy vows I waive, But, believe, I could not love ...
I. THE GARDEN. ABOVE the city hung the moon, Right o'er a plot of ground Where flowers and orchard-trees were ...
BUT two miles more, and then we rest ! Well, there is still an hour of day, And long the ...
I've quenched my lamp, I struck it in that start Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall The crash ...
What is she writing? Watch her now, How fast her fingers move ! How eagerly her youthful brow Is bent ...
SIT stilla worda breath may break (As light airs stir a sleeping lake,) The glassy calm that soothes my woes, ...
' SISTER, you've sat there all the day, Come to the hearth awhile; The wind so wildly sweeps away, The ...
Speak of the North! A lonely moor Silent and dark and tractless swells, The waves of some wild streamlet pour ...
ARRANGING long-locked drawers and shelves Of cabinets, shut up for years, What a strange task we've set ourselves ! How ...
The room is quiet, thoughts alone People its mute tranquillity; The yoke put on, the long task done, I am, ...
THE human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, ...
A Short Poem or Else Not Say I True pleasure breathes not city air, Nor in Art's temples dwells, In ...
LIFE, believe, is not a dream So dark as sages say; Oft a little morning rain Foretells a pleasant day. ...
SOME have won a wild delight, By daring wilder sorrow; Could I gain thy love to-night, I'd hazard death to-morrow. ...
There's little joy in life for me, And little terror in the grave; I've lived the parting hour to see ...
THERE'S no use in weeping, Though we are condemned to part: There's such a thing as keeping A remembrance in ...
Long ago I wished to leave " The house where I was born; " Long ago I used to grieve, ...
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