Spelling and punctuation are authorial. Texts are as per Brontë's manuscripts. Please see the bottom of this page for more details.
NOTE: A very few of these poems are only quoted in fragments (because there are three or four songs that don't use the entire poem). I keep meaning to deal with this, either by notices on those poems' pages or by typing out their remainders, but the months slip by and I am very busy elsewhere... Affected poems include R.4, R.124, ... some cuts are in the songs but the complete poems are still given on these pages, so this is tough to enumerate..... (sorry)
[later: this is a serious problem and i need to find time to set it right.]
R.002 | High waveing heather ’neath stormy blasts bending |
R.007 | O God in heaven! the dream of horror |
R.009 | Alone I sat the summer day |
R.012 | Far away is the land of rest |
R.014 | Now trust a breast that trusts in you |
R.015 | Sleep brings no joy to me |
R.018 | O transient voyager of heaven! |
R.019 | I die but when the grave shall press |
R.024 | Why do I hate that lone green dell? |
R.031 | Well narrower draw the circle round |
R.034 | Geraldine, the moon is shining |
R.035 | I knew not ’t was so dire a crime |
R.037 | Light up thy halls! ’Tis closing day; |
R.039 | Loud without the wind was roaring |
R.040 | A little while, a little while |
R.041 | How still, how happy! those are words |
R.042 | The bluebell is the sweetest flower |
R.043 | The night was Dark yet winter breathed |
R.048 | Sacred whacher, wave thy bells! |
R.050 | May Flowers are opening |
R.055 | I’ve seen this dell in July’s shine |
R.057 | Come hither child—who gifted thee |
R.059 | Mild the mist upon the hill |
R.060 | How long will you remain the midnight hour |
R.062 | Fair sinks the summer evening now |
R.065 | O between distress and pleasure |
R.066 | The wind I hear it sighing |
R.079 | In summer’s mellow midnight |
R.082 | And like myself lone wholey lone |
R.084 | Shall Earth no more inspire thee, |
R.085 | Aye there it is! It wakes to night |
R.095 | How clear she shines! How quietly |
R.096 | Where beams the sun the brightest |
R.098 | In the earth, the earth thou shalt be laid |
R.099 | Hope was but a timid Friend— |
R.103 | Well hast thou spoken—and yet not taught |
R.107 | The linnet in the rocky dells, |
R.108 | When weary with the long day’s care |
R.110 | O, thy bright eyes must answer now, |
R.116 | Cold in the earth and the deep snow piled above thee! |
R.118 | Ah! why, because the dazzeling sun |
R.120a | Heavy hangs the raindrop |
R.120b | Child of Delight! with sunbright hair |
R.124 | A messenger of Hope, comes every night to me, |
R.125 | No coward soul is mine |
R.127 | Why ask to know what date what clime |
R.001 | Will the day be bright or cloudy? |
R.003 | Red breast early in the morning |
R.004 | There shines the moon, at noon of night. |
R.010 | The battle had passed from the height |
R.013 | The Old church tower and Garden wall |
R.016 | The night is darkening round me |
R.021 | Fall leaves fall die flowers away |
R.022 | Weaned from life and torn away |
R.027 | This shall be thy lullaby |
R.030 | ’Twas one of those dark cloudy days |
R.032 | For him who struck thy foreign string |
R.033 | The evening sun was sinking down |
R.036 | Where were ye all? and where wert thou |
R.038 | O Dream, where art thou now? |
R.044 | What winter floods what showers of Spring |
R.052 | I know not how it falls on me |
R.054 | Month after month year after year |
R.061 | The starry night shall tidings bring |
R.069 | The wind was rough which tore |
R.070 | That wind I used to hear it swelling |
R.071 | Heavens glory shone where he was laid |
R.074 | It is too late to call thee now— |
R.077 | If greif for greif can touch thee, |
R.078 | Tis moon light summer moonlight |
R.083 | Riches I hold in light esteem |
R.091 | Had there been falshood in my breast |
R.128 | Love is like the wild rose briar, |
R.129 | There should be no dispair for you |
R.133 | Alas that she |
R.134 | Deep deep down in the silent grave |
R.135 | Here with my knee upon thy stone |
R.136 | O come again what chains withold |
R.137 | Was it with the feilds of green |
R.138 | How loud the Storm sounds round the Hall! |
R.139 | What use is it to slumber here, |
R.140 | O evening why is thy light so sad? |
R.141 | Its over now Ive known it all |
R.142 | O Hinder me by no delay |
R.143 | I’ll come when thou art sadest |
R.144 | I would have touched the heavnly key |
R.145 | It was night and on the mountains |
R.146 | yes holy be thy resting place |
R.147 | Lonly at her window sitting |
R.148 | There are two trees in a lonely feild |
R.149 | And the wind swept past her hopeless ear |
R.150 | What is that smoke that ever still |
R.151 | Still as she looked the iron clouds |
R.152 | Away away resign me now |
R.153 | It will not shine again |
R.154 | None but one beheld him dying |
R.155 | Coldly bleakly drearily |
R.156 | Old Hall of Time ruined lonly now |
R.157 | Cold clear and blue the morning heaven |
R.158 | Tell me tell me smileing child |
R.159 | The inspiring musics thrilling sound |
R.160 | Strong I stand though I have borne |
R.161 | I paused on the threshold I turned to the sky |
R.162 | O come with me thus ran the song |
R.163 | Woods you need not frown on me |
R.164 | How golden bright from earth and heaven |
R.165 | Not a vapour had stained the breezless blue |
R.166 | Only some spires of bright green grass |
R.167 | The sun has set and the long grass now |
R.168 | Lady in your palace Hall |
R.169 | And first an hour of mournful museing |
R.170 | Wind sink to rest in the heather |
R.171 | Long neglect has worn away |
R.172 | Awaking morning laughs from heaven |
R.173 | Her sisters and her brothers feet |
R.174 | O Harold while the darkness falls |
R.175 | Tis evening now the sun descends |
R.176 | We wander on we have no rest |
R.177 | What shadow is it |
R.178 | There let thy bleeding branch atone |
R.181 | All hushed and still within the house |
R.182 | Iernës eyes were glazed and dim |
R.183 | When days of Beauty deck the earth |
R.186 | In dungeons dark I cannot sing |
R.187 | I’m happiest when most away |
R.188 | Methinks this heart should rest a while |
R.189 | That dreary lake that midnight sky |
R.193 | But the hearts that once adored me |
R.194 | Start not upon the minster wall |
R.195 | My heart is not enrapturd now |
R.196 | What woke it then? a little child |
R.197 | I heard it then you heard it too |
R.199 | Harp of wild and dream like Strain |
R.200 | All day I’ve toiled but not with pain |
Disclaimer I typed these poems out by hand from Derek Roper's book (The Poems of Emily Brontë, Oxford, 1995), which I own. Why did I type them out? It was part of the process of getting close to each poem before attempting to write its song. In fact I did memorise each poem before getting down to composition, often retyping the same poem numerous times until I had it perfect. But also, having the text files proved useful in countless ways over the course of the project.
Roper's book—the most accurate of all editions of Brontë's poetry—is notable for presenting the texts exactly as Emily wrote them, warts and all. Thus I am presenting texts that are out-of-copyright, as the late Professor Roper's editorial work is such that it can be quoted without violation of copyright: It “only” collates and clarifies the original texts. (Of course, the front matter and end-notes of his book are copyright.) This is characteristic of the modesty of the man, from what I can gather after having read some obituary comments. Nevertheless, it's a fine line: if I had OCR'd the book it would probably be illegal to present the results on this website, but since I typed them... I will take my chances with the texts of the poems, lol!
I've made a careful study of all the holograph manuscripts I could cast my eyes upon, and in a very few cases I was able to improve on Roper's readings, which may be worth a note in a scholarly publication someday... (I notice that not all my changes found their way into the texts that I link above, but they are all in the songs.) I regret that I cannot provide more images of Emily's manuscripts on my website: the costs of obtaining permission are considerable. But the link just given includes outbound links to some images which are available online at their respective cures.
This is a double-disclaimer, because Emily's manuscripts have many spelling anomalies, at least some of which are intentional. That leaves me in the awkward position of having to make disclaimers on every page quoting any of her poetry, or risk losing visitors should they conclude that it was only my carelessness! I've tried to cut the right balance between redundancy and risk. Why not use some other edition that corrects the spelling, adds punctuation, bungs short poems together, ...? What can I say? Once you get a taste for the purist approach, it's impossible to go back to texts normalised by some editor. In my case, I wanted the most authentic and intimate experience of her poems that I could possibly get, since this certainly contributes to inspiration, and I've decided to pass it on to you for better or for worse. There are plenty of other, cheap editions of the poems which you can pick up if you want a smoother (though less genuine) read.