Verses by Lady Geralda

Why, when I hear the stormy breath
  Of the wild winter wind
Rushing o'er the mountain heath,
  Does sadness fill my mind?
For long ago I loved to lie
  Upon the pathless moor,
To hear the wild wind rushing by
  With never ceasing roar;

Its sound was music then to me;
  Its wild and lofty voice
Made by heart beat exultingly
  And my whole soul rejoice.

But now, how different is the sound?
  It takes another tone,
And howls along the barren ground
  With melancholy moan.

Why does the warm light of the sun
  No longer cheer my eyes?
And why is all the beauty gone
  From rosy morning skies?

Beneath this lone and dreary hill
  There is a lovely vale;
The purling of a crystal rill,
  The sighing of the gale,

The sweet voice of the singing bird,
  The wind among the trees,
Are ever in that valley heard;
  While every passing breeze

Is loaded with the pleasant scent
  Of wild and lovely flowers.
To yonder vales I often went
  To pass my evening hours.

Last evening when I wandered there
  To soothe my weary heart,
Why did the unexpected tear
  From my sad eyelid start?

Why did the trees, the buds, the stream
  Sing forth so joylessly?
And why did all the valley seem
  So sadly changed to me?

I plucked a primrose young and pale
  That grew beneath a tree
And then I hastened from the vale
  Silent and thoughtfully.

Soon I was near my lofty home,
  But when I cast my eye
Upon that flower so fair and lone
  Why did I heave a sigh?

I thought of taking it again
  To the valley where it grew.
But soon I spurned that thought as vain
  And weak and childish too.

And then I cast that flower away
  To die and wither there;
But when I found it dead today
  Why did I shed a tear?

O why are things so changed to me?
  What gave me joy before
Now fills my heart with misery,
  And nature smiles no more.

And why are all the beauties gone
  From this my native hill?
Alas! my heart is changed alone:
  Nature is constant still.

For when the heart is free from care,
  Whatever meets the eye
Is bright, and every sound we hear
  Is full of melody.

The sweetest strain, the wildest wind,
  The murmur of a stream,
To the sad and weary mind
  Like doleful death knells seem.

Father! thou hast long been dead,
  Mother! thou art gone,
Brother! thou art far away,
  And I am left alone.

Long before my mother died
  I was sad and lone,
And when she departed too
  Every joy was flown.

But the world's before me now,
  Why should I despair?
I will not spend my days in vain,
  I will not linger here!

There is still a cherished hope
  To cheer me on my way;
It is burning in my heart
  With a feeble ray.

I will cheer the feeble spark
  And raise it to a flame;
And it shall light me through the world,
  And lead me on to fame.

I leave thee then, my childhood's home,
  For all thy joys are gone;
I leave thee through the world to roam
  In search of fair renown,

From such a hopeless home to part
  Is happiness to me,
For nought can charm my weary heart
  Except activity.

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Anne Brontë

Anne Brontë was a British novelist and poet, the youngest member of the Brontë literary family. more…

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"Verses by Lady Geralda" STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 16 Sep. 2019. <>.

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