by Anne Brontë
'Tis strange to think, there was a time
When mirth was not an empty name,
When laughter really cheered the heart,
And frequent smiles unbidden came,
And tears of grief would only flow
In sympathy for others' woe;
When speech expressed the inward thought,
And heart to kindred heart was bare,
And Summer days were far too short
For all the pleasures crowded there,
And silence, solitude, and rest,
Now welcome to the weary breast
Were all unprized, uncourted then
And all the joy one spirit showed,
The other deeply felt again;
And friendship like a river flowed,
Constant and strong its silent course,
For nought withstood its gentle force
'Tis strange to think, there was a time
When mirth was not an empty name,
When laughter really cheered the heart,
And frequent smiles unbidden came,
And tears of grief would only flow
In sympathy for others' woe;
When speech expressed the inward thought,
And heart to kindred heart was bare,
And Summer days were far too short
For all the pleasures crowded there,
And silence, solitude, and rest,
Now welcome to the weary breast
Were all unprized, uncourted then
And all the joy one spirit showed,
The other deeply felt again;
And friendship like a river flowed,
Constant and strong its silent course,
For nought withstood its gentle force
4 comments:
I havn't read any Anne Bronte b4, but that was a great thought from her - "When speech expressed the inward thought".
How rare is that in this age...
i know!!!!! even though its easiest to speak your true heart out....
the poem is very true..
and anne bronte and her sisters write beautiful heart rending work...
you must read them...
awwwww...
I remember that time :) :) :)
one one hand reminiscing fills u up and brings back fond memories of cherished events but on the other it empties u by the realization of the fleeting and irrevocable nature of those event...a bittersweet pill.
p.s. dhati looks like the most adorable thing in the world!!:-) and what the hell r u doing!? lol
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