(Any misspellings are those of the Brontës themselves.)
[Written in her early days as governess at the Robinsons' while very homesick and finding refuge in her poems]
O! I am very weary Though tears no longer flow My eyes are tired of weeping My heart is sick of woe My life is very lonely My days pass heavily I'm weary of repining Wilt thou not come to me? O! didst thou know my longings For thee from day to day My hopes so often blighted Thou wouldst not thus delay.
[A Gondal poem about an orphan girl who mourns the fact that nature no longer eases her troubled spirit.]
Why, when I hear the stormy breath Of the wild winter wind Rushing o'er the mountain heath, Does sadness fill my mind? For long ago I loved to lie Upon the pathless moor, And hear the wild wind rushing by With never ceasing roar; Its sound was music then to me; Its wild and lofty voice Made my heart beat exultingly And my whole soul rejoice. But now, how different is the sound? It takes another tone, And howls along the barren ground With melancholy moan.
[Begun while she was governess at Thorpe Green, finished while she was at home on vacation.]
Blessed be Thou for all the Joy My soul has felt today! O let its memory stay with me And never pass away! I knew there was a God on high By whom all things were made. I saw his wisdom and his power In all his works desplayed But most through out the moral world I saw his glory shine I saw his wisdom infinite His mercy all devine. Deep secrets of his providence In darkness long concealed Were brought to my delighted eyes And graciously revealed.