 | Emily Jane Brontë: The Complete Poems |  |
192
171.
['Tis evening now the sun descends]
'Tis evening now the sun descends
In golden glory down the sky
The city's murmur softly blends
With zephyrs breathing gently by
In golden glory down the sky
The city's murmur softly blends
With zephyrs breathing gently by
And yet it seems a dreary [morn]
A dark October [morn] to me
And black the piles of rainclouds [borne]
Athwart heaven's stormy canopy
A dark October [morn] to me
And black the piles of rainclouds [borne]
Athwart heaven's stormy canopy
| Emily Jane Brontë: The Complete Poems | |