In this category:

    TOMBEAU DE LA JEUNESSE - early death: writers, poets & artists who died young
    Anne, Emily & Charlotte Brontë
    FLEURSDUMAL POETRY LIBRARY - classic, modern, experimental & visual & sound poetry, poetry in translation, city poets, poetry archive, pre-raphaelites, editor's choice, etc.
    CLASSIC POETRY
    Brontë, Anne, Emily & Charlotte

New on FdM

  1. ‘Il y a’ poème par Guillaume Apollinaire
  2. Eugene Field: At the Door
  3. J.H. Leopold: Ik ben een zwerver overal
  4. My window pane is broken by Lesbia Harford
  5. Van Gogh: Poets and Lovers in The National Gallery London
  6. Eugene Field: The Advertiser
  7. CROSSING BORDER – International Literature & Music Festival The Hague
  8. Expositie Adya en Otto van Rees in het Stedelijk Museum Schiedam
  9. Machinist’s Song by Lesbia Harford
  10. “Art says things that history cannot”: Beatriz González in De Pont Museum

Or see the index

All categories

  1. AFRICAN AMERICAN LITERATURE (12)
  2. AUDIO, CINEMA, RADIO & TV (217)
  3. DANCE & PERFORMANCE (60)
  4. DICTIONARY OF IDEAS (180)
  5. EXHIBITION – art, art history, photos, paintings, drawings, sculpture, ready-mades, video, performing arts, collages, gallery, etc. (1,515)
  6. FICTION & NON-FICTION – books, booklovers, lit. history, biography, essays, translations, short stories, columns, literature: celtic, beat, travesty, war, dada & de stijl, drugs, dead poets (3,863)
  7. FLEURSDUMAL POETRY LIBRARY – classic, modern, experimental & visual & sound poetry, poetry in translation, city poets, poetry archive, pre-raphaelites, editor's choice, etc. (4,774)
  8. LITERARY NEWS & EVENTS – art & literature news, in memoriam, festivals, city-poets, writers in Residence (1,615)
  9. MONTAIGNE (110)
  10. MUSEUM OF LOST CONCEPTS – invisible poetry, conceptual writing, spurensicherung (54)
  11. MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY – department of ravens & crows, birds of prey, riding a zebra, spring, summer, autumn, winter (184)
  12. MUSEUM OF PUBLIC PROTEST (143)
  13. MUSIC (222)
  14. NATIVE AMERICAN LIBRARY (4)
  15. PRESS & PUBLISHING (91)
  16. REPRESSION OF WRITERS, JOURNALISTS & ARTISTS (112)
  17. STORY ARCHIVE – olv van de veestraat, reading room, tales for fellow citizens (17)
  18. STREET POETRY (46)
  19. THEATRE (186)
  20. TOMBEAU DE LA JEUNESSE – early death: writers, poets & artists who died young (356)
  21. ULTIMATE LIBRARY – danse macabre, ex libris, grimm & co, fairy tales, art of reading, tales of mystery & imagination, sherlock holmes theatre, erotic poetry, ideal women (229)
  22. WAR & PEACE (127)
  23. WESTERN FICTION & NON-FICTION (22)
  24. · (2)

Or see the index



  1. Subscribe to new material: RSS

Emily Brontë: Stars

Emily Jane Brontë

(1818-1848)

 

S t a r s

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun

Restored our Earth to joy,

Have you departed, every one,

And left a desert sky?

 

All through the night, your glorious eyes

Were gazing down in mine,

And, with a full heart’s thankful sighs,

I blessed that watch divine.

 

I was at peace, and drank your beams

As they were life to me;

And revelled in my changeful dreams,

Like petrel on the sea.

 

Thought followed thought, star followed star,

Through boundless regions, on;

While one sweet influence, near and far,

Thrilled through, and proved us one!

 

Why did the morning dawn to break

So great, so pure, a spell;

And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek,

Where your cool radiance fell?

 

Blood-red, he rose, and, arrow-straight,

His fierce beams struck my brow;

The soul of nature sprang, elate,

But mine sank sad and low!

 

My lids closed down, yet through their veil

I saw him, blazing, still,

And steep in gold the misty dale,

And flash upon the hill.

 

I turned me to the pillow, then,

To call back night, and see

Your worlds of solemn light, again,

Throb with my heart, and me!

 

It would not do–the pillow glowed,

And glowed both roof and floor;

And birds sang loudly in the wood,

And fresh winds shook the door;

 

The curtains waved, the wakened flies

Were murmuring round my room,

Imprisoned there, till I should rise,

And give them leave to roam.

 

Oh, stars, and dreams, and gentle night;

Oh, night and stars, return!

And hide me from the hostile light

That does not warm, but burn;

 

That drains the blood of suffering men;

Drinks tears, instead of dew;

Let me sleep through his blinding reign,

And only wake with you!

 

Emily Brontë poetry

fleursdumal.nl magaziine

More in: Anne, Emily & Charlotte Brontë, Brontë, Anne, Emily & Charlotte

Previous and Next Entry

« | »

Thank you for reading Fleurs du Mal - magazine for art & literature