Thursday, November 4, 2010

A Little While, A Little While

A LITTLE while, a little while,
This weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday.

Where wilt thou go, my harassed heart--
What thought, what scene invites thee now
What spot, or near or far apart,
Has rest for thee, my weary brow?

There is a spot, 'mid barren hills,
Where winter howls, and driving rain;
But, if the dreary tempest chills,
There is a light that warms again.

The house is old, the trees are bare,
Moonless above bends twilight's dome;
But what on earth is half so dear--
So longed for--as the hearth of home?

The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
The thorn-trees gaunt, the walks o'ergrown,
I love them--how I love them all!

Still, as I mused, the naked room,
The alien firelight died away;
And from the midst of cheerless gloom,
I passed to bright, unclouded day.

A little and a lone green lane
That opened on a common wide;
A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain
Of mountains circling every side.

A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,
So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air;
And, deepening still the dream-like charm,
Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.

That was the scene, I knew it well;
I knew the turfy pathway's sweep,
That, winding o'er each billowy swell,
Marked out the tracks of wandering sheep.

Could I have lingered but an hour,
It well had paid a week of toil;
But Truth has banished Fancy's power:
Restraint and heavy task recoil.

Even as I stood with raptured eye,
Absorbed in bliss so deep and dear,
My hour of rest had fleeted by,
And back came labour, bondage, care.

Emily Jane Brontë - 1818 - 1848

The preceding poem was composed at twilight, in the school room, when the leisure of the evening play-hour brought back in full tide the thoughts of home.

I have included a link here to Poet's Corner, it contains a brief and personal narrative of the short life of Emily Brontë written thoughtfully by her sister Charlotte.

Image: A view from Brontë Way towards Haworth, Photograph by Tim Green via Flickr (Creative Commons)


Anonymous said...

it may have been
her habit of working
through the resting hour
that hastened her untimely early
death at the young age of just 30 years

× × ×


Leovi said...

Very deep and hauntingly beautiful.

puerileuwaite said...

Any poet who includes sheep and bondage in the same poem is okay by me.

Opaque said...

Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem...

HLiza said...

I have always loved her books but know very little about her poems..thanks Dianne for sharing this.

dianne said...

Yes dear /t. lack of rest probably contributed to her untimely death at such a young age and her refusal of medical help available in that age which I should imagine would have been very basic.

xoxoxo ♡

dianne said...

Thank you dear Leovi , it is beautiful and I love how she describes her feelings, the countryside and her home which she loves; it is one of my favourite poems. xoxoxo ♡

dianne said...

Oh Pugsley my sweet, I just knew as soon as I had written the word 'bondage' that it would get your attention, plus 'sheep', now what would Lil Lamb think of you?

xoxoxo ♡

dianne said...

Thank you dear Opaque , yes it is a beautiful poem, I can imagine myself wandering around those moors and enjoying the beauty of the countryside.

xoxoxo ♡

dianne said...

Thanks dear HLiza , Emily is mainly associated with her book 'Wuthering Heights', but she also wrote many beautiful poems, I'm pleased that you enjoyed this poem.

xoxoxo ♡

Lee said...

Most charming - thank you for posting it.

foam said...

such a young lass she was when she wrote this.
thanks for sharing. i enjoyed reading it.

dianne said...

Thank you dear Lee , yes it is charming, I am pleased that you enjoyed the poem.

xoxoxo ♡

dianne said...

Thanks dear Foamy , I am pleased that you enjoyed the poem; yes, I believe Emily was 18 when she composed this poem.
There are quite a few of her poems that I like.

xoxoxo ♡

K9 said...

LOL, /t.

yes, this was the good old days, when young women pined away in some floral accented with lace room looking out over a verdant landscape thinking. thinking!

i just saw a video of a 10 year old willow smith pimping her new rap song. 10 years old, dressed like a tart and talking about gettin no respect. grrrrrehrhahahha

Craftsman of light said...

Dianne, i like it when 'Emily' peeks through you....

You take me back to those days when poetry then was sooooo grueling,especially when we had to learn by heart, and repeat it like a parrot to make the convent nuns happy,
but today, i enjoy them so much, and delightfully rediscover them on your blog with a pinch of nostalgia!

And also new ones that ihavent read before!
Thankyou Dianne for all your gifts!
hugs, hugs, hugs!!!

dianne said...

Yes dear K9 our friend /t. is very sweet.
I think the good old days had a lot to offer in some aspects of life but life for some young women must have moved at such a slow pace where they had too much time to think and pine,to sit wistfully out of boredom unless they possessed some talent like our Brontë sisters and depending on the class of the family.
Whereas other poor girls were not afforded the luxury of sitting around in floral rooms with lace accents and gazing upon the flower gardens and wandering blissfully on the verdant moors.
They would more than likely be milking cows, tending the chickens (not so bad),cooking, cleaning, washing, planting crops and harvesting and I think that I personally would like the benefit of a little part of both lives as I don't like to be idle.
I think we are so fortunate now with the choices we are afforded, unless we live in some third world countries.
As for Willow Smith, well what can I say, I would not let any 10year old child of mine dress or behave in that manner...let them have the innocence of childhood for as long as possible.
xoxoxoxo ♡

dianne said...

Thank you dear Col what a sweet thing to say.
I think I could be very happy living in the countryside of Regency or Victorian England. I know I would not have the simple luxuries and benefits that I have now, but if one is not aware of them then I would not miss them and the young ladies of those eras were very inventive.
Yes some of the poetry was gruelling,I remember having to learn 'The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner' and though I did enjoy some of the poem I wonder what good it did me for now I can only remember some of the verses, there were other poems in our curriculum which I enjoyed so much more.
Now, like yourself I have the time to rediscover some of my favorite poets and their poems and many new works which please me, like the imaginative poems and prose with which you delight us. I liken your prose to the warmth of a hug written with words.

Big Hugs to you my friend!

xoxoxo ♡

Kathleen Scott said...

One of the things I like about your blog is that I learn from your posts. Thanks!

dianne said...

Thank you dear Kathleen , that is nice to hear. I try to share some of the things that I like in the hope that others will enjoy them as well.

xoxoxo ♡