The Visionary by Emily Brontë

One Poem Only · May 23, 2025 · 2m

The Visionary Emily Brontë 1818 – 1848 Silent is the house: all are laid asleep:One alone looks out o’er the snow-wreaths deep,Watching every cloud, dreading every breezeThat whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees.Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor;Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door;The little lamp burns straight, its rays shoot strong and far:I trim it well, to be the wanderer’s guiding-star.Frown, my haughty sire! chide, my angry dame!Set your slaves to spy; threaten me with shame:But neither sire nor dame nor prying serf shall know,What angel…