At Castle Wood

Emily Bronte 1818 (Thornton, West Yorkshire) – 1848 (Haworth)



The day is done, the winter sun
Is setting in its sullen sky;
And drear the course that has been run,
And dim the hearts that slowly die.
  
No star will light my coming night;
No morn of hope for me will shine;
I mourn not heaven would blast my sight,
And I ne'er longed for joys divine.
  
Through life's hard task I did not ask
Celestial aid, celestial cheer;
I saw my fate without its mask,
And met it too without a tear.
  
The grief that pressed my aching breast
Was heavier far than earth can be;
And who would dread eternal rest
When labour's hour was agony?
  
Dark falls the fear of this despair
On spirits born of happiness;
But I was bred the mate of care,
The foster-child of sore distress.
  
No sighs for me, no sympathy,
No wish to keep my soul below;
The heart is dead in infancy,
Unwept-for let the body go.
  
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Submitted on August 03, 2020

Modified on March 05, 2023

49 sec read
43

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABAB CDCD EXEF GHGH FXFX HIHI
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 804
Words 163
Stanzas 6
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4

Emily Bronte

Emily Jane Brontë was an English novelist and poet who is best known for her only novel, Wuthering Heights, now considered a classic of English literature. more…

All Emily Bronte poems | Emily Bronte Books

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    What is the term for the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line, couplet, or stanza.
    A Line break
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