Yet another Gondal poem following Emily's style.
N.B: At some point a word has been trimmed off the manuscript (in the penultimate verse). It is generally believed that the missing word is 'time' (presented in square brackets in the poem below).
(See also: Chitham, 'The Poems of Anne Brontë', p.63 & p.167)
|That wind is from the North, I know it well;
No other breeze could have so wild a swell.
Now deep and loud it thunders round my cell,
The faintly dies,
And softly sighs,
And moans and murmurs mournfully.
I know its language; thus is speaks to me --
'I have passed over thy own mountains dear,
Thy northern mountains -- and they still are free,
Still lonely, wild, majestic, bleak and drear,
And stern and lovely, as they used to be
When thou, a young enthusiast,
I've blown the wild untrodden snows
Blow on, wild wind, thy solemn voice,
Confined and hopeless as I am,
|'The Captive's Dream'||'The North Wind'||'The Parting' (1)|
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