Spellbound | ||
| by Emily Brontë | ||
The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.
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15 comments:
Since I just moved, this is a dear connection, for it was not easy to say goodbye to my house, no matter the storm around me, but unlike Emily, I did. It is rather heartfelt, isn't it? Thank you!
Oh I was so happy to find you in the Poetry Friday roundup! I am a huge fan of your work! Thank you for sharing Emily's beautiful, melancholy poem.
I love the way you caught Emily's spirit in that last line.
Beautiful poem, thanks for sharing. I love Shiver Me Timbers by the way!
Hi Douglas, I wonder what was so riveting that kept her so spellbound - was it so captivating that she was glued to wherever she was? Very interesting. :)
Love to see Emily here today! Visited Haworth twice and have been fascinated by the Brontes ever since. What a strange and wild mind she had. . .
Thank you for this- exactly what I needed.
What a spellbinding poem to read aloud! Thanks for sharing it.
Thank you all so much. I also wonder what kept Emily so spellbound.
A captivating poem, Douglas - thanks for sharing! Many folks forget Emily wrote quite a bit of poetry, in addition to 'Heights.' I wonder if this was written as a scene from her & his sisters make-believe 'world' of Gondal?
Always good to read Emily's words - why can't she go? Thanks for sharing it with us today. =)
Perfect pick of pic to go with this poem. Those eyes...
I always am happy to see the work of Emily B. it's a good one for today.
Hellooo, long time no visit. I've missed coming by your blog (and vow I'll be back regularly). This is a perfect poem for the current weather. How did Bronte know that's exactly how I'd feel in the 21st century? ;)
I cannot recommend enough Mary Reufle's book of lectures on poetry, Madness, Rack, and Honey. In the chapter, "My Emily Dickinson," Reufle puts Emily in a Versace. "My Emily Dickinson" looks at Emily B., as well.
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