Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.


You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

Blue Bell The

by
 The blue bell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air;
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care.
There is a spell in purple heath Too wildly, sadly dear; The violet has a fragrant breath But fragrance will not cheer.
The trees are bare, the sun is cold; And seldom, seldom seen; The heavens have lost their zone of gold The earth its robe of green; And ice upon the glancing stream Has cast its sombre shade And distant hills and valleys seem In frozen mist arrayed - The blue bell cannot charm me now The heath has lost its bloom, The violets in the glen below They yield no sweet perfume.
But though I mourn the heather-bell 'Tis better far, away; I know how fast my tears would swell To see it smile today; And that wood flower that hides so shy Beneath the mossy stone Its balmy scent and dewy eye: 'Tis not for them I moan.
It is the slight and stately stem, The blossom's silvery blue, The buds hid like a sapphire gem In sheaths of emerald hue.
'Tis these that breathe upon my heart A calm and softening spell That if it makes the tear-drop start Has power to soothe as well.
For these I weep, so long divided Through winter's dreary day, In longing weep--but most when guided On withered banks to stray.
If chilly then the light should fall Adown the dreary sky And gild the dank and darkened wall With transient brilliancy, How do I yearn, how do I pine For the time of flowers to come, And turn me from that fading shine To mourn the fields of home -

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Blue Bell TheEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top Emily Bronte Poems

Analysis and Comments on Blue Bell The

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Blue Bell The here.