anne bronte - lines written at thorp green - jo wyatt lyrics
that summer sun, whose genial glow
now cheers my drooping spirit so
must cold and distant be
and only light our northern clime
with feeble ray, before the time
i long so much to see
and this soft whispering breeze that now
so gently cools my fevered brow
this too, alas, must turn —
to a wild blast whose icy dart
pierces and chills me to the heart
before i cease to mourn
and these bright flowers i love so well
verbena, rose and sweet bluebell
must droop and die away
those thick green leaves with all their shade
and rustling music, they must fade
and every one decay
but if the sunny summer time
and woods and meadows in their prime
are sweet to them that roam —
far sweeter is the winter bare
with long dark nights and landscapes drear
to them that are at home!
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