Emily Jane Bronte

Emily Jane Bronte

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

The Old Stoic

Riches I hold in light esteem,
And love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a
That vanish'd with the morn:
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There should be no despair for
While nightly stars are burning;
While evening pours its silent dew,
And sunshine gilds the morning
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The Philosopher

Enough of thought, philosopher
Too long hast thou been
Unlightened, in this chamber drear,
While summer's sun is beaming
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The Sun Has Set

The sun has set, and the long grass now Waves dreamily in the evening wind;
And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone In some warm nook a couch to find
In all the lonely landscape round I see no light and hear no sound,
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Last Words

I knew not 'twas so dire a
To say the word, "Adieu;"But this shall be the only
My lips or heart shall sue
That wild hill-side, the winter morn,
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How Clear She Shines

How clear she shines
How quietlyI lie beneath her guardian light;
While heaven and earth are whispering me,"To morrow, wake, but dream to-night
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If grief for grief can touch thee

If grief for grief can touch thee,
If answering woe for woe,
If any truth can melt thee Come to me now
I cannot be more lonely,
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