Who is Emily Jane Bronta<<

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Emily Jane Bronta<< Poems

  • High Waving Heather 'neath Stormy Blasts Bending
    High waving heather 'neath stormy blasts bending,
    Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars,
    Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
    Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending, ...
  • The Elder's Rebuke
    'Listen! When your hair, like mine,
    Takes a tint of silver gray;
    When your eyes, with dimmer shine,
    Watch life's bubbles float away: ...
  • Ah! Why, Because The Dazzling Sun
    Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
    Restored my earth to joy
    Have you departed, every one,
    And left a desert sky? ...
  • How Still, How Happy!
    How still, how happy! Those are words
    That once would scarce agree together;
    I loved the plashing of the surge -
    The changing heaven the breezy weather, ...
  • 'tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight
    'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
    All soft and still and fair;
    The solemn hour of midnight
    Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Emily Jane Bronta<<

Heart 41 Sweet 31 Heaven 30 Earth 28 Spirit 28 Away 28 Soul 27 Long 27 Night 26 Life 26


Emily Jane Bronta<< Quotes

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Comments about Emily Jane Bronta<<

  • Talitadiaslemos: "(...) we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious jane austen, some emi...
  • 1m2e3l: "if all else perished, and he remained, i should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihi...
  • Sleepyirma: i started jane erye the other day and i just wanna say emily bronte has hurt the hell out of my little orphan feelings
  • Bcgornick: on page 132 of 696 of jane eyre & wuthering heights, by emily brontë
  • Duckqueen112873: i activated my elizabeth i, horatio nelson, wm shakespeare, jane austen, emily bronte magic in england in 97, my jo...
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Poem of the day

Boris Pasternak Poem
The Garden Scatters Burnt-Up Beetles...
 by Boris Pasternak

The garden scatters burnt-up beetles
Like brazen ash, from braziers burst.
I witness, by my lighted candle,
A newly blossomed universe.

And like a not yet known religion
I enter this unheard of night,
In which the shabbily-grey poplar
...

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