Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte
    The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte
    The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte
    Ebook98 pages37 minutes

    The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte

    By Emily Jane Bronte

    4.5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    In the small village of Haworth in Yorkshire the Bronte family created novels and poems that are still admired to this day around the world. The middle of the three Bronte sisters, Emily Jane was born on 30th July 1818. The author of ‘Wuthering Heights’ she was also a very talented poet as witnessed here in this collection. She died of tuberculosis at the age of only 30 on 19th December 1848. So frail at death her coffin measured only sixteen inches wide.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCopyright Group
    Release dateJan 17, 2014
    ISBN9781783948086
    The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte

    Related to The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      How to Stop Crying

      Nov 7, 2019

      How to Stop Crying
      7 min read

    • Article

      Exhaustively Researched, Often Brilliant Biography Of Sylvia Plath

      Nov 7, 2020

      ALMOST six decades after her death, Sylvia Plath stands as the most consequential poet of her generation. As a feminine voice, she dominates the 20th century. At the time of Plath’s death at age 30, critic A Alvarez wrote: “The loss to literature is

      13 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Nov 1, 2020

      He kept me through childhood.There was a reasonhe kept me from sin like a biscuitwarming in the oven.It’s okay I tell the rain to keep him a theorybut bring him downonce in a while.It’s okay to be honest or selfishbut find the spot where you sinka li

      2 min read

    • Article

      The Art of Fiction No. 243

      Dec 15, 2018

      The Art of Fiction No. 243
      24 min read

    • Article

      Unafraid Of The Dark

      Mar 27, 2018

      SOME YEARS AGO, in a workshop, I wrote about my sister’s self-destructive adolescence. I recounted her recklessness with boys and alcohol, the anger that erupted like a geyser inside her, and her hell-bent desire to run away—which she did by joining

      10 min read

    • Article

      Flood The World With Beauty

      Nov 1, 2019

      A big literary conference is probably not the best place for a poet dealing with a mental breakdown. But there I was at AWP, skittishly perusing tables at the book fair, under the garish lights of the Minneapolis Convention Center. For two years, par

      8 min read

    • Article

      On Writerly Jealousy

      Dec 5, 2018

      On Writerly Jealousy
      7 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      I’ve seen enough films where a character nickshimself shaving or maybe has a bread knife slip and the thinrun of blood is supposed to stand for some violence,for something he did and is desperateto cover up, but the truth will out—I’ve seen enough th

      2 min read

    • Article

      What Poetry Can Predict

      Oct 9, 2019

      What Poetry Can Predict
      4 min read

    • Article

      Seek And Ye Shall Find

      Oct 19, 2022

      Seek And Ye Shall Find
      2 min read

    • Article

      Poem Of The Week: The North Wind By Anne Brontë

      May 8, 2023

      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,Then faintly dies,And softly sighs,And moans and murmurs mournfully.I know its language; thus is speaks to me – ‘I have

      3 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      May 1, 2019

      Like the way Galway Kinnell fell asleep in 1968 in Athens, Ohio,reading from a wadded-up new poem pulled from his pocket,started too late at night the night before—the occasion, exactly, the Ohio Poetry Circuit,calling for, often, two readings a day,

      2 min read

    • Article

      An Interview With Xueyan

      Jun 24, 2023

      An Interview With Xueyan
      5 min read

    • Article

      Winters On The Farm

      Dec 5, 2023

      Winters On The Farm
      1 min read

    • Article

      Your Poetry

      Jun 24, 2022

      Email your poems to: (editorial@choicemag.co.uk) or post to Your Poetry, Choice, 4 Milnyard Square, Orton Southgate, Peterborough PE2 6GX I remember the tree from my youth,the way its leaves hissed in stormsweeping tears in driving rainand casting a

      2 min read

    • Article

      Death’s Footsteps

      Nov 29, 2017

      Death’s Footsteps
      5 min read

    • Article

      The Epic Of Gilgamesh

      Jan 1, 2020

      My friends, who can reach heaven? The monster bellows like a river swollen with flood.Many are consumed in his fiery breath. My friends, who can reach heaven? Let us ask the mountain for a sign.Let us cut the spirits from the cedars. My friends, who

      3 min read

    • Article

      Must-Read Poetry: June 2018

      Jun 5, 2018

      Here are six notable books of poetry publishing in June. American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin by Terrance Hayes “I wanted to have my form and explode it too,” said Wanda Coleman of sonnets. Hayes names her with gratitude in this book. Ath

      5 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      May 1, 2023

      At the end of the world, I sat in the dark waiting for you,but you didn’t come. You didn’t save me. At the end we are always alone, candles slowlyburning out, losing the flame for lack of oxygen. You didn’t tell me it would be like this. All of itcam

      2 min read

    • Article

      Bard In The Woods

      Nov 30, 2020

      Bard In The Woods
      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Nov 1, 2019

      Four Poems
      7 min read

    • Article

      In The Spotlight:your Writing Dark Side

      Dec 7, 2023

      Spooky season evidently offered creative inspiration aplenty for the WM writers, who responded to the call for writing in November’s crime-themed issue on the theme of ‘Dark Side’ with our fullest mailbox yet. The poetry and prose sent in demonstrate

      4 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      May 1, 2023

      Let’s be GodFor a moment, Shall we?That which invites Composition,That which is suspended From a great height,The presence Of approximationHeavy in the meadows, I’m not afraid,And yet My shroud vanishesIn these lines, I am so weptPast weeping, And wh

      1 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte

    4.5/5

    2 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte - Emily Jane Bronte

      The Poetry Of Emily Jane Bronte

      In the small village of Haworth in Yorkshire the Bronte family created novels and poems that are still admired to this day around the world. 

      The middle of the three Bronte sisters, Emily Jane was born on 30th July 1818. The author of ‘Wuthering Heights’ she was also a very talented poet as witnessed here in this collection. 

      She died of tuberculosis at the age of only 30 on 19th December 1848.  So frail at death her coffin measured only sixteen inches wide.

      Index Of Poems

      Upon Her Soothing Breast

      'Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight

      A Little While, A Little While...

      Me Thinks This Heart...

      Long Neglect Has Worn Away

      A Day Dream

      A Death - Scene

      A Little Budding Rose

      Ah! Why, Because the Dazzling Sun

      Anticipation

      At Castle Wood

      Come Hither, Child

      Come, Walk With Me

      Death, That Struck When I Was Most Confiding

      Encouragement

      Faith and Despondency

      'Fall, leaves, fall'

      Far, Far Away Is Mirth Withdrawn

      High Waving Heather 'Neath Stormy Blasts Bending

      Honour's Martyr

      Hope

      How Beautiful The Earth Is Still

      How Clear She Shines

      How Still, How Happy!

      I Am the Only Being Whose Doom

      I See Around Me Tombstones Grey

      If Grief For Grief Can Touch Thee

      Last Lines

      Loud Without the Wind Was Roaring

      Love and Friendship

      Mild The Mist Upon The Hill

      My Comforter

      My Lady's Grave

      No Coward Soul Is Mine

      Often Rebuked, Yet Always Back Returning

      Oh, For The Time When I Shall Sleep

      'Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place'

      Well Hast Thou Spoke

      Warning and Reply

      To Imagination

      The Wind Was Rough Which Tore

      The Wanderer From The Fold

      The Visionary

      The Two Children

      The Sun Has Set

      The Prisoner. A Fragment

      The Prisoner

      The Philosopher

      The Old Stoic

      The Night is Darkening Around Me

      The Night - Wind

      The Lady To Her Guitar

      The Elder's Rebuke

      The Blue Bell

      That Wind I Used to Hear it Swelling

      Sympathy

      Stars

      Stanzas to -

      Stanzas

      Spellbound

      Speak, God Of Visions

      Song

      She Dried Her Tears

      Shall Earth No More Inspire Thee

      Self-Interrogation

      Riches I hold In Light Esteem

      Remembrance

      R. Alcona to J. Brenzaida

      Plead For Me

      Silent is the House

      Upon Her Soothing Breast

      Upon her soothing breast

      She lulled her little child,

      A winter sunset in the west

      A heav'nly glory smiled.

      I gazed within thine earnest eyes

      And read the sorrow brooding there;

      I heard thy young breast torn with sighs,

      And envied such despair.

      'Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight

      'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, 

      All soft and still and fair; 

      The solemn hour of midnight 

      Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

      But most where trees are sending 

      Their breezy boughs on high, 

      Or stooping low are lending 

      A shelter from the sky.

      And there in those wild bowers 

      A lovely form is laid; 

      Green grass and dew-steeped flowers 

      Wave gently round her head. 

      A Little While, A Little While...

      A little while, a little while,

      The weary task is put away,

      And I can sing and I can smile,

      Alike, while I have holiday.

      Why wilt thou go, my harassed heart,

      What thought, what scene invites thee now?

      What spot, or near or far,

      Has rest for thee, my weary brow?

      There is a spot, mid barren hills,

      Where winter howls, and driving rain;

      But if the dreary tempest chills,

      There is a light that warms again.

      The house is old, the trees are bare,

      Moonless above bends twilight's dome;

      But what on earth is half so dear,

      So longed for, as the hearth of home?

      The mute bird sitting on the stone,

      The dank moss dripping from the wall,

      The thorn-trees gaunt, the walks o'ergrown,

      I love them, how I love them all!

      Still, as I mused, the naked room,

      The alien firelight died away,

      And from the midst of cheerless gloom

      I passed to bright unclouded day.

      A little and a lone green lane

      That opened on a common wide;

      A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain

      Of mountains circling every side;

      A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,

      So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air;

      And, deepening still the dream-like charm,

      Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.

      That was the scene, I knew it well;

      I knew the turfy

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1