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Anne Bronte

A Poem by Anne Bronte: The Arbour

  The Arbour I’ll rest me in this sheltered bower, And look upon the clear blue sky That smiles upon me through the trees, Which stand so thickly clustering by; And view their green and glossy leaves, All glistening in ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Stanzas

  Stanzas Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs In those dear eyes of thine, To me a keener suffering brings, Than if they flowed from mine. And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee; For my ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Song 2

Song 2 Come to the banquet ­­ triumph in your songs! Strike up the chords ­­ and sing of Victory! The oppressed have risen to redress their wrongs; The Tyrants are o’erthrown; the Land is free! The Land is free! ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Song

Song We know where deepest lies the snow, And where the frost­winds keenest blow, O’er every mountain’s brow, We long have known and learnt to bear The wandering outlaw’s toil and care, But where we late were hunted, there Our ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Self Communion

Self Communion ‘The mist is resting on the hill; The smoke is hanging in the air; The very clouds are standing still: A breathless calm broods everywhere. Thou pilgrim through this vale of tears, Thou, too, a little moment cease ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Power of Love

  Power of Love Love, indeed thy strength is mighty Thus, alone, such strife to bear ­­ Three ‘gainst one, and never ceasing ­­ Death, and Madness, and Despair! ‘Tis not my own strength has saved me; Health, and hope, ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Past Days

  Past Days ‘Tis strange to think, there was a time When mirth was not an empty name, When laughter really cheered the heart, And frequent smiles unbidden came, And tears of grief would only flow In sympathy for others’ ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte: Night

  Night I love the silent hour of night, For blissful dreams may then arise, Revealing to my charmed sight What may not bless my waking eyes! And then a voice may meet my ear That death has silenced long ...

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A Poem by Anne Bronte : Memory

Memory Brightly the sun of summer shone, Green fields and waving woods upon, And soft winds wandered by; Above, a sky of purest blue, Around, bright flowers of loveliest hue, Allured the gazer’s eye. But what were all these charms ...

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