Poems by Emily Jane Brontë
Last Lines
... No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere: ...
Shall Earth no more inspire thee
... Since naught beside can bless thee, ...
The Sun Has Set
... And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone ...
Fall, Leaves, Fall
... I shall smile when wreaths of snow ...
Far, Far Away Is Mirth Withdrawn
... Those ceaseless tears! I wish their flow ...
Love and Friendship
... The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring, ...
A Death-Scene
... Troubled still, and still they ranged not- ...
The Philosopher
... and day; Heaven could not hold them all, and yet ...
The Night
... Their bare boughs weighed with snow ...
Come hither, child
... long ago I heard those notes in Ula's hall, ...
A Little Budding Rose
... The rose is blasted, withered, blighted, ...
'Tis moonlight
... Green grass and dew-steeped flowers ...
The Lady To Her Guitar
... When clouds of storm, or shades of night, ...
The Two Children Pt. II
... And, though clouded, sweet are youthful years - ...
Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place
... That summer's grass more green may grow, ...