On The Death Of Anne Brontë

Poem By Charlotte Brontë

THERE 's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave ;
I 've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.

Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last ;
Longing to see the shade of death
O'er those belovèd features cast.

The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me ;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently ;

Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life ;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,
Must bear alone the weary strife.

Comments about On The Death Of Anne Brontë

* life sucks * death is scary * she spent enough time around her sister to do anything for them * seen people die * wanted to die * And wanted to be with the one that had passed * Time is moving slowly * It was time for her to go, she was in a better place * Together they were strong and now she has to be alone
Sounds like a cry for doctor assisted suiced. Must have been a horrible death. I've witnessed a few of those, and are glad the suffering for all concerned ends. Ugh.
A sad goodbye for her sister. I think most of us would give our own lives to save that of a loved one, as she said she would do. Makes my heart ache.
Nice poem with the tones of hope and utter surrender.
To see someone you would have given your life to save parting to eternity is something traumatizing and emotionally painful. Something we wish it doesn't happen in our life time but does. Nice Poem.


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Other poems of BRONTË

Life

LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain

Parting

THERE'S no use in weeping,
Though we are condemned to part:
There's such a thing as keeping
A remembrance in one's heart:

Evening Solace

THE human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;­
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,

Mementos

ARRANGING long-locked drawers and shelves
Of cabinets, shut up for years,
What a strange task we've set ourselves !
How still the lonely room appears !

Regret

Long ago I wished to leave
" The house where I was born; "
Long ago I used to grieve,
My home seemed so forlorn.