Poetry... what a great thing.

I have to admit that, prior to taking my A-Level English Language-and-Literature course, I never used to like poetry - I thought it was dull and tedious stuff, really.
But... now, I see it for the better.

Take On The Death Of Anne Brontë as an example.
That poem is heart-wrenching to read, in my opinion.

The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me;

Poor Charlotte. To lose two sisters in such quick succession... it must've been torment so see them waste away, knowing that there was precious little that could be done to save them.

And Anne's own Last Lines... they're beautiful. I find the version that Charlotte published in 1850 all the more poignant, just for the addition of her own comments.

These lines written, the desk was closed, the pen laid aside--for ever.

And I admit that I adore Stanzas To ----.

But my sad heart must ever mourn
Thy ruined hopes, thy blighted fame!

A strange bit of foreshadowing, which Emily seems to have been fairly good at. Hello there, Branwell... isn't it a bit early for your sisters to be doing things like this? It is, really.

And I think it's pretty obvious that I adore The Old Stoic, considering the title of this blog...

Riches I hold in light esteem,
And Love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dream,
That vanished with the morn:

And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me
Is, "Leave the heart that now I bear,
And give me liberty!"

Yes, as my swift days near their goal:
'Tis all that I implore;
In life and death a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.

...And on a final note in relation to poetry, I can only ever seem to find books of Emily's poetry.
I've yet to come across any of Anne's or Charlotte's, and I've never even seen a glimpse of Branwell's.