Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow.Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression,Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels.This is …
"Never again? Why not again? Memory has power as real as thine." #Brontë
"One short sleep past, we wake eternally And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die." #JohnDonne #HolySonnetX
"Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality." #EmilyDickinson #poetry
O come with me, thus ran the song,The moon is bright in Autumn’s sky,And thou hast toiled and laboured longWith aching head and weary eye.Emily Jane Brontë I stumbled across this poem recently. I realized that while I knew of the Brontë sisters’ novels, I knew very little of their poetry. This one stuck out …
