A Little While, A Little While,

Poem By Emily Jane Brontë

A little while, a little while,
The noisy crowd are barred away;
And I can sing and I can smile
A little while I've holyday !

Where wilt thou go my harassed heart ?
Full many a land invites thee now;
And places near, and far apart
Have rest for thee, my weary brow -

There is a spot 'mid barren hills
Where winter howls and driving rain
But if the dreary tempest chills
There is a light that warms again

The house is old, the trees are bare
And moonless bends the misty dome
But what on earth is half so dear -
So longed for as the hearth of home ?

The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
The garden-walk with weeds o'ergrown
I love them - how I love them all !

Shall I go there? or shall I seek
Another clime, another sky,
Where tongues familiar music speak
In accents dear to memory ?

Yes, as I mused, the naked room,
The flickering firelight died away
And from the midst of cheerless gloom
I passed to bright unclouded day -

A little and a lone green lane
That opened on a common wide
A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain
Of mountains circling every side -

A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,
So sweet, so soft, so hushed in air
And, deepening still the dreamlike charm,
Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere -

That was the scene - I knew it well
I knew the pathways far and near
That winding o'er each billowy swell
Marked out the tracks of wandering deer

Could I have lingered but an hour
It well had paid a week of toil
But truth has banished fancy's power
I hear my dungeon bars recoil -

Even as I stood with raptured eye
Absorbed in bliss so deep and dear
My hour of rest had fleeted by
And given me back to weary care -

Comments about A Little While, A Little While,

" What on earth is half so dear So longed for as the hearth of home" Fantastic conceptualization deserving classic poem of the day.
A beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing. Kingsley Egbukole
CONGRATULATIONS TO HER FAMILY IN THE UK BEING CHOSEN AS THE CLASSIC POEM OF THE DAY! EMILY BRONTe IS A WELL RESPECTED POET NOT ONLY IN THE UK BUT ALSO IN THE USA. THE STUDENTS WHO HAVE STUDIED ENGLISH LITERATURE AS THEIR SUBJECT, KNOW ALL THESE.
A Wonderous Write, if we imagine her surroundings, by moors, endless muddy pools and secluded in Thornton, Yorkshire, England, then is this poem and almost all her poems, a very impressing escape of her genius mind. Having created most intelligent poems in such an area, she must be very gifted. She was only 30 when she died of tuberculosis She escaped her dull life through poems, " the warm hearth " was oft mentioned.Genius poetess!
Delightful poem that beautifully describes the deep human need for escape. Its lush imagery, replete with notable alliteration: ' distant, dreamy, dim blue chain/ O mountains...deepening still the dreamlike charm/Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere -'is exemplified by iambic tetrameter contained within a strict quatrain structure.


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29 total ratings

Other poems of BRONTË

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A little while, a little while,
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