Poems by Charlotte Bronte

Sorted by title, showing title and first line

This last denial of my faith,
The human heart has hidden treasures,
She will not sleep, for fear of dreams,
I. The Garden.
Life, believe, is not a dream
Arranging long-locked drawers and shelves
There's little joy in life for me,
There's no use in weeping,
Some have won a wild delight,
I've quench'd my lamp, I struck it in that start
A Short Poem or Else Not Say I
Not in scorn do I reprove thee,
"Sister, you've sat there all the day,
Long ago I wished to leave
Speak of the North! A lonely moor
If thou be in a lonely place,
Above the city hung the moon,
What is she writing? Watch her now,
Plough, vessel, plough the British main,
Warm is the parlour atmosphere,
The room is quiet, thoughts alone
Above the city hangs the moon,
Sit still, a word, a breath may break
But two miles more, and then we rest!
We take from life one little share,

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