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Best Famous Anne Bronte Poems

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by Anne Bronte | |

Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day

 My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead leaves, beneath them, are merrily dancing, The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray; I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing, And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!


by Anne Bronte | |

A Prayer

 My God (oh, let me call Thee mine,
Weak, wretched sinner though I be),
My trembling soul would fain be Thine;
My feeble faith still clings to Thee.
Not only for the Past I grieve, The Future fills me with dismay; Unless Thou hasten to relieve, Thy suppliant is a castaway.
I cannot say my faith is strong, I dare not hope my love is great; But strength and love to Thee belong; Oh, do not leave me desolate! I know I owe my all to Thee; Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give! Do Thou my strength--my Saviour be, And MAKE me to Thy glory live.


by Anne Bronte | |

My God! O let me call Thee mine!

 My God! O let me call Thee mine!
Weak wretched sinner though I be,
My trembling soul would fain be Thine,
My feeble faith still clings to Thee,
My feeble faith still clings to Thee.
Not only for the past I grieve, The future fills me with dismay; Unless Thou hasten to relieve, I know my heart will fall away, I know my heart will fall away.
I cannot say my faith is strong, I dare not hope my love is great; But strength and love to Thee belong, O, do not leave me desolate! O, do not leave me desolate! I know I owe my all to Thee, O, take this heart I cannot give.
Do Thou my Strength my Saviour be; And make me to Thy glory live! And make me to Thy glory live!


by Anne Bronte | |

My Soul is Awakened

 My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring, 
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; 
For, above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring 
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing, The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray, I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!


by Anne Bronte | |

Night

 I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes! 
And then a voice may meet my ear
That death has silenced long ago;
And hope and rapture may appear
Instead of solitude and woe.
Cold in the grave for years has lain The form it was my bliss to see, And only dreams can bring again The darling of my heart to me.


by Anne Bronte | |

Oh They have Robbed Me of The Hope

 Oh, they have robbed me of the hope
My spirit held so dear;
They will not let me hear that voice
My soul delights to hear.
They will not let me see that face I so delight to see; And they have taken all thy smiles, And all thy love from me.
Well, let them seize on all they can: -- One treasure still is mine, -- A heart that loves to think on thee, And feels the worth of thine.


by Anne Bronte | |

Parting Address From Z.Z. To A.E.

 O weep not, love! each tear that springs
In those dear eyes of thine,
To me a keener suffering brings
Than if they flowed from mine.
And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee.
For my sake, combat pain and care, And cherish life for me! I do not fear thy love will fail, Thy faith is true I know; But O! my love! thy strength is frail For such a life of woe.
Were't not for this, I well could trace (Though banished long from thee) Life's rugged path, and boldly face The storms that threaten me.
Fear not for me -­ I've steeled my mind Sorrow and strife to greet, Joy with my love I leave behind, Care with my friends I meet.
A mother's sad reproachful eye, A father's scowling brow -­ But he may frown, and she may sigh; I will not break my vow! I love my mother, I revere My sire, but doubt not me.
Believe that Death alone can tear This faithful heart from thee.


by Anne Bronte | |

The Penitent

 I mourn with thee and yet rejoice
That thou shouldst sorrow so;
With Angel choirs I join my voice
To bless the sinner's woe.
Though friends and kindred turn away And laugh thy grief to scorn, I hear the great Redeemer say 'Blessed are ye that mourn'.
Hold on thy course nor deem it strange That earthly cords are riven.
Man may lament the wondrous change But 'There is joy in Heaven'!


by Anne Bronte | |

Song

 We know where deepest lies the snow,
And where the frost-winds keenest blow,
O'er every mountain's brow,
We long have known and learnt to bear
The wandering outlaw's toil and care,
But where we late were hunted, there
Our foes are hunted now.
We have their princely homes, and they To our wild haunts are chased away, Dark woods, and desert caves.
And we can range from hill to hill, And chase our vanquished victors still; Small respite will they find until They slumber in their graves.
But I would rather be the hare, That crouching in its sheltered lair Must start at every sound; That forced from cornfields waving wide Is driven to seek the bare hillside, Or in the tangled copse to hide, Than be the hunter's hound.


by Anne Bronte | |

Stanzas

 Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs
In those dear eyes of thine,
To me a keener suffering brings,
Than if they flowed from mine.
And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee; For my sake combat pain and care, And cherish life for me! I do not fear thy love will fail; Thy faith is true, I know; But, oh, my love! thy strength is frail For such a life of woe.
Were't not for this, I well could trace (Though banished long from thee,) Life's rugged path, and boldly face The storms that threaten me.
Fear not for me -­ I've steeled my mind Sorrow and strife to greet; Joy with my love I leave behind, Care with my friends I meet.
A mother's sad reproachful eye, A father's scowling brow -­ But he may frown and she may sigh: I will not break my vow! I love my mother, I revere My sire, but fear not me­ Believe that Death alone can tear This faithful heart from thee.


by Anne Bronte | |

Dreams

 While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
Then I may cherish at my breast An infant's form beloved and fair, May smile and soothe it into rest With all a Mother's fondest care.
How sweet to feel its helpless form Depending thus on me alone! And while I hold it safe and warm What bliss to think it is my own! And glances then may meet my eyes That daylight never showed to me; What raptures in my bosom rise, Those earnest looks of love to see, To feel my hand so kindly prest, To know myself beloved at last, To think my heart has found a rest, My life of solitude is past! But then to wake and find it flown, The dream of happiness destroyed, To find myself unloved, alone, What tongue can speak the dreary void? A heart whence warm affections flow, Creator, thou hast given to me, And am I only thus to know How sweet the joys of love would be?


by Anne Bronte | |

Fragment

 Yes I will take a cheerful tone
And feign to share their heartless glee,
But I would rather weep alone
Than laugh amid their revelry.


by Anne Bronte | |

Home

 How brightly glistening in the sun
The woodland ivy plays!
While yonder beeches from their barks
Reflect his silver rays.
That sun surveys a lovely scene From softly smiling skies; And wildly through unnumbered trees The wind of winter sighs: Now loud, it thunders o'er my head, And now in distance dies.
But give me back my barren hills Where colder breezes rise; Where scarce the scattered, stunted trees Can yield an answering swell, But where a wilderness of heath Returns the sound as well.
For yonder garden, fair and wide, With groves of evergreen, Long winding walks, and borders trim, And velvet lawns between; Restore to me that little spot, With grey walls compassed round, Where knotted grass neglected lies, And weeds usurp the ground.
Though all around this mansion high Invites the foot to roam, And though its halls are fair within -- Oh, give me back my HOME!


by Anne Bronte | |

If This Be All

 O God! if this indeed be all
That Life can show to me;
If on my aching brow may fall
No freshening dew from Thee, -- 
If with no brighter light than this
The lamp of hope may glow,
And I may only dream of bliss,
And wake to weary woe;

If friendship's solace must decay,
When other joys are gone,
And love must keep so far away,
While I go wandering on, --

Wandering and toiling without gain,
The slave of others' will,
With constant care, and frequent pain,
Despised, forgotten still; 

Grieving to look on vice and sin,
Yet powerless to quell
The silent current from within,
The outward torrent's swell: 

While all the good I would impart,
The feelings I would share,
Are driven backward to my heart,
And turned to wormwood, there;

If clouds must ever keep from sight
The glories of the Sun,
And I must suffer Winter's blight,
Ere Summer is begun;

If life must be so full of care,
Then call me soon to Thee;
Or give me strength enough to bear
My load of misery.


by Anne Bronte | |

Lines Written at Thorp Green

 That summer sun, whose genial glow
Now cheers my drooping spirit so
Must cold and distant be,
And only light our northern clime
With feeble ray, before the time
I long so much to see.
And this soft whispering breeze that now So gently cools my fevered brow, This too, alas, must turn -- To a wild blast whose icy dart Pierces and chills me to the heart, Before I cease to mourn.
And these bright flowers I love so well, Verbena, rose and sweet bluebell, Must droop and die away.
Those thick green leaves with all their shade And rustling music, they must fade And every one decay.
But if the sunny summer time And woods and meadows in their prime Are sweet to them that roam -- Far sweeter is the winter bare With long dark nights and landscapes drear To them that are at Home!


by Anne Bronte | |

Confidence

 Oppressed with sin and woe,
A burdened heart I bear,
Opposed by many a mighty foe:
But I will not despair.
With this polluted heart I dare to come to Thee, Holy and mighty as Thou art; For Thou wilt pardon me.
I feel that I am weak, And prone to every sin: But Thou who giv'st to those who seek, Wilt give me strength within.
Far as this earth may be From yonder starry skies; Remoter still am I from Thee: Yet Thou wilt not despise.
I need not fear my foes, I need not yield to care, I need not sink beneath my woes: For Thou wilt answer prayer.
In my Redeemer's name, I give myself to Thee; And all unworthy as I am My God will cherish me.
O make me wholly Thine! Thy love to me impart, And let Thy holy spirit shine For ever on my heart!


by Anne Bronte | |

A Reminiscence

 YES, thou art gone ! and never more
Thy sunny smile shall gladden me ;
But I may pass the old church door,
And pace the floor that covers thee.
May stand upon the cold, damp stone, And think that, frozen, lies below The lightest heart that I have known, The kindest I shall ever know.
Yet, though I cannot see thee more, 'Tis still a comfort to have seen ; And though thy transient life is o'er, 'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been ; To think a soul so near divine, Within a form so angel fair, United to a heart like thine, Has gladdened once our humble sphere.


by Anne Bronte | |

Appeal

 Oh, I am very weary,
Though tears no longer flow;
My eyes are tires of weeping,
My heart is sick of woe;

My life is very lonely,
My days pass heavily,
I'm wearing of repining,
Wilt thou not come to me?

Oh, didst thou know my longings
For thee, from day to day,
My hopes, so often blighted,
Thou wouldst not thus delay!


by Anne Bronte | |

Retirement

 O, let me be alone a while,
No human form is nigh.
And may I sing and muse aloud, No mortal ear is by.
Away! ye dreams of earthly bliss, Ye earthly cares begone: Depart! ye restless wandering thoughts, And let me be alone! One hour, my spirit, stretch thy wings, And quit this joyless sod, Bask in the sunshine of the sky, And be alone with God!