Winter-Night Meditations (Patrick Branwell Bronte Poems)
Rude winter's come, the sky's o'ercast, The night is cold and loud the blast, The mingling snow comes driving down, Fast whitening o'er ...
Rude winter's come, the sky's o'ercast, The night is cold and loud the blast, The mingling snow comes driving down, Fast whitening o'er ...
One sunny morn of May, When dressed in flowery green The dewy landscape, charmed With Nature's fairest scene, In thoughtful mood I slowly strayed O'er hill ...
When warm'd with zeal, my rustic Muse Feels fluttering fain to tell her news, And paint her simple, lowly views With all her ...
The shower is past, and the sky O'erhead is both mild and serene, Save where a few drops from on high, Like gems, ...
Aloft on the brow of a mountain, And hard by a clear running fountain, In neat little cot, Content with her lot, Retired, there ...
When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait, First reached my ear, ...
The joyous day illumes the sky That bids each care and sorrow fly To shades of endless night: E'en frozen age, thawed in ...
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