Monday, April 2, 2012

B is for Bronte Books

B is for Bronte.  Yes, the Bronte sisters are Anne, Emily, and Charlotte.   Great authors from the 19th Century. Known for their novels and their poetry.

Anne Bronte wrote Agnes Grey as well as The Tenant of Windfell Hall.
 Anne, the youngest, was born January 17, 1820.

               A REMINISCENCE
YES, thou art gone! and never more
Thy sunny smile shall gladden me;
But I may pass the old church door,
And pace the floor that covers thee,

May stand upon the cold, damp stone,
And think that, frozen, lies below
The lightest heart that I have known,
The kindest I shall ever know. Yet, though I cannot see thee more,
'Tis still a comfort to have seen;
And though thy transient life is o'er,
'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been;
To think a soul so near divine,
Within a form, so angel fair,
United to a heart like thine,
Has gladdened once our humble sphere.


Charlotte is best known for Jane Eyre. She also wrote Shirley, Villette, and The Professor, all Romance novels.  She was born April 28, 1816.


LONG ago I wished to leave
" The house where I was born; "
Long ago I used to grieve,
My home seemed so forlorn.
In other years, its silent rooms
Were filled with haunting fears;
Now, their very memory comes
O'ercharged with tender tears.

Life and marriage I have known,
Things once deemed so bright;
Now, how utterly is flown
Every ray of light !
'Mid the unknown sea of life
I no blest isle have found;
At last, through all its wild wave's strife,
My bark is homeward bound. Farewell, dark and rolling deep !
Farewell, foreign shore !
Open, in unclouded sweep,
Thou glorious realm before !
Yet, though I had safely pass'd
That weary, vexed main,
One loved voice, through surge and blast,
Could call me back again.
Though the soul's bright morning rose
O'er Paradise for me,
William ! even from Heaven's repose
I'd turn, invoked by thee !
Storm nor surge should e'er arrest
My soul, exulting then:
All my heaven was once thy breast,
Would it were mine again !

Emily is best remembered for Wuthering Heights.
Emily was born July 30, 1818.


How clear she shines ! How quietly
  I lie beneath her guardian light;
While heaven and earth are whispering me,
  " To morrow, wake, but, dream to-night."
Yes, Fancy, come, my Fairy love !
  These throbbing temples softly kiss;
And bend my lonely couch above
  And bring me rest, and bring me bliss.
The world is going; dark world, adieu !
  Grim world, conceal thee till the day;
The heart, thou canst not all subdue,
  Must still resist, if thou delay !
Thy love I will not, will not share;
  Thy hatred only wakes a smile;
Thy griefs may woundthy wrongs may tear,
  But, oh, thy lies shall ne'er beguile !
While gazing on the stars that glow
  Above me, in that stormless sea,
I long to hope that all the woe
  Creation knows, is held in thee !
And, this shall be my dream to-night;
  I'll think the heaven of glorious spheres

Is rolling on its course of light
  In endless bliss, through endless years;
I'll think, there's not one world above,
  Far as these straining eyes can see,
Where Wisdom ever laughed at Love,
  Or Virtue crouched to Infamy; Where, writhing 'neath the strokes of Fate,
  The mangled wretch was forced to smile;
To match his patience 'gainst her hate,
  His heart rebellious all the while.
Where Pleasure still will lead to wrong,
  And helpless Reason warn in vain;
And Truth is weak, and Treachery strong;
  And Joy the surest path to Pain;
And Peace, the lethargy of Grief;
  And Hope, a phantom of the soul;
And Life, a labour, void and brief;
  And Death, the despot of the whole !

When they first published, they used male names, Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell, because women were not recognized as authors in the 19th century.

They each met an early death.

They also had a brother named Branwell, who they claimed to be a genius.

The Bronte writings were a huge part of my library growing up.  I loved their works and still do.

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