Come, Walk With Me

Come, walk with me,
There's only thee
To bless my spirit now -
We used to love on winter nights
To wander through the snow;
Can we not woo back old delights?
The clouds rush dark and wild
They fleck with shade our mountain heights
The same as long ago
And on the horizon rest at last
In looming masses piled;
While moonbeams flash and fly so fast
We scarce can say they smiled -

Come walk with me, come walk with me;
We were not once so few
But Death has stolen our company
As sunshine steals the dew -
He took them one by one and we
Are left the only two;
So closer would my feelings twine
Because they have no stay but thine -

'Nay call me not - it may not be
Is human love so true?
Can Friendship's flower droop on for years
And then revive anew?
No, though the soil be wet with tears,
How fair soe'er it grew
The vital sap once perished
Will never flow again
And surer than that dwelling dread,
The narrow dungeon of the dead
Time parts the hearts of men -'

by Emily Jane Brontë

Comments (23)

Sweet are her poems Sweeter they are they to recite. Try please
Sir Edmund William Gosse wrote that Emily Jane Brontë was ''so implacable in its slavery to its own principles.'' She liked to develop the form of the poetry. This poem looks like an Irregular, Cowleyan, romantic ode.Remembers me ''Intimations of Immortality'' by William Wordsworth. Both are beautiful, but I like more the Pindaric odes, more exactly the Horatian, Keatsian, or Ronsardian Odes.
This is a masterpiece in its poetic beauty and language.
Time truely parts the hearts and many other things...superb!
She resolved at once to seek her love and give the love freedom to tell itself............timeless piece so elegantly composed with personification and metaphor.........thanks for sharing
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