Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

The North Wind

 That wind is from the North, I know it well;
No other breeze could have so wild a swell.
Now deep and loud it thunders round my cell, The faintly dies, And softly sighs, And moans and murmurs mournfully.
I know its language; thus is speaks to me -- 'I have passed over thy own mountains dear, Thy northern mountains -- and they still are free, Still lonely, wild, majestic, bleak and drear, And stern and lovely, as they used to be When thou, a young enthusiast, As wild and free as they, O'er rocks and glens and snowy heights Didst often love to stray.
I've blown the wild untrodden snows In whirling eddies from their brows, And I have howled in caverns wild Where thou, a joyous mountain child, Didst dearly love to be.
The sweet world is not changed, but thou Art pining in a dungeon now, Where thou must ever be; No voice but mine can reach thine ear, And Heaven has kindly sent me here, To mourn and sigh with thee, And tell thee of the cherished land Of thy nativity.
' Blow on, wild wind, thy solemn voice, However sad and drear, Is nothing to the gloomy silence I have had to bear.
Hot tears are streaming from my eyes, But these are better far Than that dull gnawing tearless [time] The stupor of despair.
Confined and hopeless as I am, O speak of liberty, O tell me of my mountain home, And I will welcome thee.

by Anne Bronte
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - The North WindEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Anne Bronte Poems

Analysis and Comments on The North Wind

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem The North Wind here.