Emily Jane Brontë: The Complete Poems Edited by Janet Gezari |
I. |
II. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
19. |
20. |
21. |
22. |
23. |
24. |
25. |
26. |
27. |
28. |
29. |
30. |
31. |
32. |
33. |
34. |
35. |
36. |
37. |
38. |
39. |
40. |
41. |
42. |
43. |
44. |
45. |
46. |
47. |
48. |
49. |
50. |
51. |
52. |
53. |
54. |
55. |
56. |
57. |
58. |
59. |
60. |
61. |
62. |
63. |
64. |
65. |
66. |
67. |
68. |
69. |
70. |
71. |
72. |
73. |
74. |
75. |
76. |
77. |
78. |
79. |
80. |
81. |
82. |
83. |
84. |
85. |
86. |
87. |
88. |
89. |
90. |
91. |
92. |
93. |
94. |
95. |
96. |
97. |
98. |
99. |
100. |
101. |
102. |
103. |
104. | 104.
|
106. |
107. |
108. |
109. |
110. |
111. |
112. |
113. |
114. |
116. |
117. |
118. |
119. |
120. |
122. |
123. |
124. |
125. |
126. |
127. |
128. |
129. |
131. |
133. |
134. |
135. |
136. |
137. |
138. |
139. |
140. |
142. |
143. |
145. |
147. |
148. |
151. |
154. |
161. |
162. |
164. |
165. |
167. |
168. |
169. |
III. |
IV. |
Emily Jane Brontë: The Complete Poems | ||
104.
[The wind I hear it sighing]
The wind I hear it sighing
With Autumn's saddest sound—
Withered leaves as thick are lying
As spring-flowers on the ground—
With Autumn's saddest sound—
Withered leaves as thick are lying
As spring-flowers on the ground—
This dark night has won me
To wander far away—
Old feelings gather fast upon me
Like vultures round their prey—
To wander far away—
Old feelings gather fast upon me
Like vultures round their prey—
Kind were they once, and cherished
But cold and cheerless now—
I would their lingering shades had perished
When their light left my brow
But cold and cheerless now—
I would their lingering shades had perished
When their light left my brow
'Tis like old age pretending
The softness of a child,
My altered, hardened spirit bending
To meet their fancies wild
The softness of a child,
My altered, hardened spirit bending
To meet their fancies wild
Yet could I with past pleasures,
Past woe's oblivion buy—
That by the death of my dearest treasures
My deadliest pains might die.
Past woe's oblivion buy—
That by the death of my dearest treasures
My deadliest pains might die.
O then another daybreak
Might haply dawn above—
Another summer gild my cheek,
My soul, another love—
Might haply dawn above—
Another summer gild my cheek,
My soul, another love—
Emily Jane Brontë: The Complete Poems | ||