Lines Written At Thorp Green

Anne Brontë 1820 – 1849

That summer sun, whose genial glow

Now cheers my drooping spirit so

Must cold and distant be,

And only light our northern clime

With feeble ray, before the time

I long so much to see.

And this soft whispering breeze that now

So gently cools my fevered brow,

This too, alas, must turn

To a wild blast whose icy dart

Pierces and chills me to the heart,

Before I cease to mourn.

And these bright flowers I love so well,

Verbena, rose and sweet bluebell,

Must droop and die away.

Those thick green leaves with all their shade

And rustling music, they must fade

And every one decay.

But if the sunny summer time

And woods and meadows in their prime

Are sweet to them that roam

Far sweeter is the winter bare

With long dark nights and landscapes drear

To them that are at Home!

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO