What do you think?
Rate this book
No Coward Soul Is Mine
Yes, as my swift days near their goal,
’Tis all that I implore;
In life and death, a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.
In this new selection of Emily Brontë’s heart-rending poems, we uncover a soul unafraid to confront mortality, tragedy and the wild cruelty – and beauty – of nature. These verses capture her profound passion and indomitable spirit, plumbing the depths of the human heart and revealing the raw power of Brontë’s poetic genius.
’Tis all that I implore;
In life and death, a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.
In this new selection of Emily Brontë’s heart-rending poems, we uncover a soul unafraid to confront mortality, tragedy and the wild cruelty – and beauty – of nature. These verses capture her profound passion and indomitable spirit, plumbing the depths of the human heart and revealing the raw power of Brontë’s poetic genius.
128 pages, Paperback
Published April 17, 2025
About the author
Emily Brontë
1,733 books14.3k followersEmily Brontë was an English novelist and poet whose singular contribution to literature, Wuthering Heights, is now celebrated as one of the most powerful and original novels in the English language. Born into the remarkable Brontë family on 30 July 1818 in Thornton, Yorkshire, she was the fifth of six children of Maria Branwell and Patrick Brontë, an Irish clergyman. Her early life was marked by both intellectual curiosity and profound loss. After the death of her mother in 1821 and the subsequent deaths of her two eldest sisters in 1825, Emily and her surviving siblings— Charlotte, Anne, and Branwell—were raised in relative seclusion in the moorland village of Haworth, where their imaginations flourished in a household shaped by books, storytelling, and emotional intensity.
The Brontë children created elaborate fictional worlds, notably Angria and later Gondal, which served as an outlet for their creative energies. Emily, in particular, gravitated toward Gondal, a mysterious, windswept imaginary land she developed with her sister Anne. Her early poetry, much of it steeped in the mythology and characters of Gondal, demonstrated a remarkable lyrical force and emotional depth. These poems remained private until discovered by Charlotte in 1845, after which Emily reluctantly agreed to publish them in the 1846 collection Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, using the pseudonym Ellis Bell to conceal her gender. Though the volume sold few copies, critics identified Emily’s poems as the strongest in the collection, lauding her for their music, power, and visionary quality.
Emily was intensely private and reclusive by nature. She briefly attended schools in Cowan Bridge and Roe Head but was plagued by homesickness and preferred the solitude of the Yorkshire moors, which inspired much of her work. She worked briefly as a teacher but found the demands of the profession exhausting. She also studied in Brussels with Charlotte in 1842, but again found herself alienated and yearning for home. Throughout her life, Emily remained closely bonded with her siblings, particularly Anne, and with the landscape of Haworth, where she drew on the raw, untamed beauty of the moors for both her poetry and her fiction.
Her only novel, Wuthering Heights, was published in 1847, a year after the poetry collection, under her pseudonym Ellis Bell. Initially met with a mixture of admiration and shock, the novel’s structure, emotional intensity, and portrayal of violent passion and moral ambiguity stood in stark contrast to the conventions of Victorian fiction. Many readers, unable to reconcile its power with the expected gentility of a woman writer, assumed it had been written by a man. The novel tells the story of Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw—two characters driven by obsessive love, cruelty, and vengeance—and explores themes of nature, the supernatural, and the destructive power of unresolved emotion. Though controversial at the time, Wuthering Heights is now considered a landmark in English literature, acclaimed for its originality, psychological insight, and poetic vision.
Emily's personality has been the subject of much speculation, shaped in part by her sister Charlotte’s later writings and by Victorian biographies that often sought to romanticize or domesticate her character. While some accounts depict her as intensely shy and austere, others highlight her fierce independence, deep empathy with animals, and profound inner life. She is remembered as a solitary figure, closely attuned to the rhythms of the natural world, with a quiet but formidable intellect and a passion for truth and freedom. Her dog, Keeper, was a constant companion and, according to many, a window into her capacity for fierce, loyal love.
Emily Brontë died of tuberculosis on 19 December 1848 at the age of thirty, just a year after the publication of her novel. Her early death, following those of her brother Branwell and soon to
The Brontë children created elaborate fictional worlds, notably Angria and later Gondal, which served as an outlet for their creative energies. Emily, in particular, gravitated toward Gondal, a mysterious, windswept imaginary land she developed with her sister Anne. Her early poetry, much of it steeped in the mythology and characters of Gondal, demonstrated a remarkable lyrical force and emotional depth. These poems remained private until discovered by Charlotte in 1845, after which Emily reluctantly agreed to publish them in the 1846 collection Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, using the pseudonym Ellis Bell to conceal her gender. Though the volume sold few copies, critics identified Emily’s poems as the strongest in the collection, lauding her for their music, power, and visionary quality.
Emily was intensely private and reclusive by nature. She briefly attended schools in Cowan Bridge and Roe Head but was plagued by homesickness and preferred the solitude of the Yorkshire moors, which inspired much of her work. She worked briefly as a teacher but found the demands of the profession exhausting. She also studied in Brussels with Charlotte in 1842, but again found herself alienated and yearning for home. Throughout her life, Emily remained closely bonded with her siblings, particularly Anne, and with the landscape of Haworth, where she drew on the raw, untamed beauty of the moors for both her poetry and her fiction.
Her only novel, Wuthering Heights, was published in 1847, a year after the poetry collection, under her pseudonym Ellis Bell. Initially met with a mixture of admiration and shock, the novel’s structure, emotional intensity, and portrayal of violent passion and moral ambiguity stood in stark contrast to the conventions of Victorian fiction. Many readers, unable to reconcile its power with the expected gentility of a woman writer, assumed it had been written by a man. The novel tells the story of Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw—two characters driven by obsessive love, cruelty, and vengeance—and explores themes of nature, the supernatural, and the destructive power of unresolved emotion. Though controversial at the time, Wuthering Heights is now considered a landmark in English literature, acclaimed for its originality, psychological insight, and poetic vision.
Emily's personality has been the subject of much speculation, shaped in part by her sister Charlotte’s later writings and by Victorian biographies that often sought to romanticize or domesticate her character. While some accounts depict her as intensely shy and austere, others highlight her fierce independence, deep empathy with animals, and profound inner life. She is remembered as a solitary figure, closely attuned to the rhythms of the natural world, with a quiet but formidable intellect and a passion for truth and freedom. Her dog, Keeper, was a constant companion and, according to many, a window into her capacity for fierce, loyal love.
Emily Brontë died of tuberculosis on 19 December 1848 at the age of thirty, just a year after the publication of her novel. Her early death, following those of her brother Branwell and soon to
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews
August 13, 2025
EMILY BRÖNTE IK BEN VRIJ OP ZATERDAG EN WIL GRAAG MET JE MEE NAAR DE MOORS. ALSJEBLIEFT NEEM ME MEE NAAR DE MOORS OP ZATERDAG WANNEER IK VRIJ BEN
...
even serieus: Emily's gedichten zijn subliem! ja, ze zijn somber – maar ook warm, hartelijk, wijs, en voelen vreemd vertrouwd. Het heeft diezelfde sfeer als Wuthering Heights; buiten is het donker, de wind huilt, woeste stormen doen het huis kraken en de onweer licht de hemel op. En dat terwijl je binnen bij een warm knisperende haardje zit op een comfortabele stoel, met een boek en een kat op schoot (maar dan zonder de allergie, je ziet het plaatje).
De gedichten gaan over eenzaamheid, vriendschap, rouw en liefde, en vaak met inspiratie van de Engelse Moors. De Moors, voor als je het nog niet kent, is een ruig, boomloos landschap met golvende heuvels, heidevelden, harde wind en vaak dichte mist. Dit is het landschap dat voor Emily heel bekend was en ze veel van haar inspiratie uit haalde.
De poëzie zelf is eigenlijk best toegankelijk (met een beetje achtergrond af en toe), met een fijn rijmschema dat ook lekker bekt (want poëzie dient hardop voorgelezen te worden). Vaak zijn het dialogen, waarbij bijvoorbeeld de vader zijn dochter aanspreekt:
"The winter wind is loud and wild,
Come close to me, my darling child;
Forsake thy books, and mateless play;
And, while the night is gathering gray,
We'll talk its pensive hours away;"
Hij verteld haar dat hij rouwt om zijn dierbaren die zijn overleden:
"But, yet, even this tranquillity
Brings bitter, restless thoughts to me;
And, in the red fire's cheerful glow,
I think of deep glens, blocked with snow;
I dream of moor, and misty hill,
Where evening closes dark and chill;
For, lone, among the mountains cold,
Lie those that I have loved of old.
And my heart aches, in hopeless pain,
Exhausted with repinings vain,
That I shall greet them ne'er again!"
De dochter troost hem door hem te vertellen dat, hoewel de wereld hard is voor de nabestaanden, er niet om hen gerouwd hoeft te worden, want rouwen om de doden is als rouwen om een gevallen zaadje dat een boom wordt en niet wordt vergeten:
"Oh! not for them, should we despair,
The grave is drear, but they are not there;
[...]
You told me this, and yet you sigh,
And murmur that your friends must die.
Ah! my dear father, tell me why?
For, if your former words were true,
How useless would such sorrow be;
As wise, to mourn the seed which grew
Unnoticed on its parent tree,
Because it fell in fertile earth,
And sprang up to a glorious birth,
Struck deep its root, and lifted high
Its green boughs in the breezy sky.
Oké, eerlijk gezegd weet ik niet hoe slim het advies is, maar het klinkt mooi (<- dit is eigenlijk een samenvatting van hoe ik poëzie lees)
Dat gezegd hebbende, Emily, ik vergeef het je NOOIT dat je jouw zusjes vroeg om jouw gedichten na je dood te verbranden.
… NOOIT!
***
XXVIII
Redbreast, early in the morning,
Dark and cold and cloudy grey,
Wildly tender is thy music,
Chasing angry thought away.
My heart is not enraptured now,
My eyes are full of tears,
And constant sorrow on my brow
Has done the work of years.
It was not hope that wrecked at once
The spirit's calm in storm,
But a long life of solitude,
Hopes quenched, and rising thoughts subdued,
A bleak November's calm.
What woke it then? A little child
Strayed from its father's cottage door,
And in the hour of moonlight wild
Laid lonely on the desert moor.
I heard it then, you heard it too,
And seraph sweet it sang to you;
But like the shriek of misery
That wild, wild music wailed to me.
...
even serieus: Emily's gedichten zijn subliem! ja, ze zijn somber – maar ook warm, hartelijk, wijs, en voelen vreemd vertrouwd. Het heeft diezelfde sfeer als Wuthering Heights; buiten is het donker, de wind huilt, woeste stormen doen het huis kraken en de onweer licht de hemel op. En dat terwijl je binnen bij een warm knisperende haardje zit op een comfortabele stoel, met een boek en een kat op schoot (maar dan zonder de allergie, je ziet het plaatje).
De gedichten gaan over eenzaamheid, vriendschap, rouw en liefde, en vaak met inspiratie van de Engelse Moors. De Moors, voor als je het nog niet kent, is een ruig, boomloos landschap met golvende heuvels, heidevelden, harde wind en vaak dichte mist. Dit is het landschap dat voor Emily heel bekend was en ze veel van haar inspiratie uit haalde.
De poëzie zelf is eigenlijk best toegankelijk (met een beetje achtergrond af en toe), met een fijn rijmschema dat ook lekker bekt (want poëzie dient hardop voorgelezen te worden). Vaak zijn het dialogen, waarbij bijvoorbeeld de vader zijn dochter aanspreekt:
"The winter wind is loud and wild,
Come close to me, my darling child;
Forsake thy books, and mateless play;
And, while the night is gathering gray,
We'll talk its pensive hours away;"
Hij verteld haar dat hij rouwt om zijn dierbaren die zijn overleden:
"But, yet, even this tranquillity
Brings bitter, restless thoughts to me;
And, in the red fire's cheerful glow,
I think of deep glens, blocked with snow;
I dream of moor, and misty hill,
Where evening closes dark and chill;
For, lone, among the mountains cold,
Lie those that I have loved of old.
And my heart aches, in hopeless pain,
Exhausted with repinings vain,
That I shall greet them ne'er again!"
De dochter troost hem door hem te vertellen dat, hoewel de wereld hard is voor de nabestaanden, er niet om hen gerouwd hoeft te worden, want rouwen om de doden is als rouwen om een gevallen zaadje dat een boom wordt en niet wordt vergeten:
"Oh! not for them, should we despair,
The grave is drear, but they are not there;
[...]
You told me this, and yet you sigh,
And murmur that your friends must die.
Ah! my dear father, tell me why?
For, if your former words were true,
How useless would such sorrow be;
As wise, to mourn the seed which grew
Unnoticed on its parent tree,
Because it fell in fertile earth,
And sprang up to a glorious birth,
Struck deep its root, and lifted high
Its green boughs in the breezy sky.
Oké, eerlijk gezegd weet ik niet hoe slim het advies is, maar het klinkt mooi (<- dit is eigenlijk een samenvatting van hoe ik poëzie lees)
Dat gezegd hebbende, Emily, ik vergeef het je NOOIT dat je jouw zusjes vroeg om jouw gedichten na je dood te verbranden.
… NOOIT!
***
XXVIII
Redbreast, early in the morning,
Dark and cold and cloudy grey,
Wildly tender is thy music,
Chasing angry thought away.
My heart is not enraptured now,
My eyes are full of tears,
And constant sorrow on my brow
Has done the work of years.
It was not hope that wrecked at once
The spirit's calm in storm,
But a long life of solitude,
Hopes quenched, and rising thoughts subdued,
A bleak November's calm.
What woke it then? A little child
Strayed from its father's cottage door,
And in the hour of moonlight wild
Laid lonely on the desert moor.
I heard it then, you heard it too,
And seraph sweet it sang to you;
But like the shriek of misery
That wild, wild music wailed to me.
February 5, 2026
10+/10
This first time I’ve really -really- loved formally-structured and rhyming poetry. Made me understand the value of the sub-genre / style !!! Previously I’ve always felt that formal poetry can feel constricted and caught up in the technicalities or just trying to find words to fit a rhyme scheme without expressing much deeply. This collection absolutely changed my mind and I am just so blown away with the smooth, effortless form of these moving and deep poems.
Recurrent themes of religiosity and death/mourning. So beautiful. Can’t recommend enough !
Excerpt from ‘The Philosopher’:
‘Enough of thought, philosopher!
Too long hast thou been dreaming
Unenlightened, in this chamber drear,
While summer’s sun is beaming!
[…]’
This first time I’ve really -really- loved formally-structured and rhyming poetry. Made me understand the value of the sub-genre / style !!! Previously I’ve always felt that formal poetry can feel constricted and caught up in the technicalities or just trying to find words to fit a rhyme scheme without expressing much deeply. This collection absolutely changed my mind and I am just so blown away with the smooth, effortless form of these moving and deep poems.
Recurrent themes of religiosity and death/mourning. So beautiful. Can’t recommend enough !
Excerpt from ‘The Philosopher’:
‘Enough of thought, philosopher!
Too long hast thou been dreaming
Unenlightened, in this chamber drear,
While summer’s sun is beaming!
[…]’
September 24, 2025
my girl loved nature
March 9, 2026
Unfortunately, I can't get fascinated by poetry, but I have fairly enjoyed a few poems.
• Anticipation
• To imagination
• Tis moonlight summer moonlight
• No coward soul is mine
• Anticipation
• To imagination
• Tis moonlight summer moonlight
• No coward soul is mine
December 4, 2025
Miss Emily really just gets it x
April 6, 2026
So bleak, so much death, so much nature, so sublime. Anyone who's done A Level English Lit will know 'Often rebuked' is a total Emily banger (although Charlotte might have tinkered with it too). That, and so many other of these poems, remind me of the comforting, healing power of nature. Understandably given her grim life, sometimes Emily offers profoundly heavy and depressing short little poems ('Fall leaves fall'), but more often she somehow finds room for a bit of hope - an unwavering love, a bulletproof resolve, a reminder that the spring will come and nature will "renew". 'How still, how happy!' is a glorious depiction of summer that also finds appreciation for "December's smile" and the "blue ice curdling on the stream". 'The Old Stoic' is a wonderfully straight-talking piece about how to approach death with courage. As for 'Sympathy', someone read it at my funeral please and thank you.
March 23, 2026
All through the night, your glorious eyes
Were gazing down in mine,
And, with a full heart’s thankful sighs,
I blessed that watch divine.
Were gazing down in mine,
And, with a full heart’s thankful sighs,
I blessed that watch divine.
June 9, 2025
Delicious!
Read
July 19, 2025better than wuthering heights, that's for sure!
May 5, 2026
poetry collection reflecting a lot about and coming to terms with mortality - dog eared my copy a little too much maybe
September 28, 2025
The poetry is five stars, but I would’ve liked this compact edition to include an introduction to Emily Brontë’s work and a chronology of key life events—similar to the Penguin Classics: The Complete Poems edition. I feel like this kind of context really helps, especially since this is the newest edition and a selected collection, which is what drew me in as someone reading her poetry for the first time. I’m sure others might feel the same—it’s just nice to have a bit of background when diving into poetry.
That being said, I do believe I’ve learnt a lot about Emily’s story through her personal and passionate approach. Even without a formal introduction, her voice really comes through in the poems—raw, intense, and often deeply emotional. You can sense her inner world, her struggles, and the things she cared about just by the way she writes. It’s like getting to know her through her own words, which in a way feels even more intimate than reading a biography or timeline. So while I still think some added context would’ve been helpful, her poetry speaks volumes on its own.
That being said, I do believe I’ve learnt a lot about Emily’s story through her personal and passionate approach. Even without a formal introduction, her voice really comes through in the poems—raw, intense, and often deeply emotional. You can sense her inner world, her struggles, and the things she cared about just by the way she writes. It’s like getting to know her through her own words, which in a way feels even more intimate than reading a biography or timeline. So while I still think some added context would’ve been helpful, her poetry speaks volumes on its own.
September 3, 2025
love Emily Brontë and her gorgeous poetry, this anthology pulls together some of her loveliest and darkest poems, my personal faves from this collection are: 'How Clear She Shines', 'The Night is darkening round me', 'The Old Stoic', 'Fall leaves fall' and 'The Night-Wind', would definitely recommend for Emily Brontë fans, beginner readers of her works and poetry in general! :)
June 13, 2025
This was such a beautiful read, I loved every moment. Emily Brontë just has a way with words that resonates deeply within me. So many poems about nature (you can really feel Emily Brontë’s love for the Yorkshire landscape shining through), faith, love, and loneliness - each one of them incredible.
July 1, 2025
raw and beautiful….there’s nothing she could put out that i wouldn’t like
April 26, 2026
“How still, how happy! now I feel
Where silence dwells is sweeter far
Than laughing mirth’s most joyous swell
However pure its raptures are”
“What matters it, that, all around,
Danger, and guilt, and darkness lie,
If but within our bosom's bound
We hold a bright, untroubled sky,
Warm with ten thousand mingled rays
Of suns that know no winter days?”
“O may I never lose the peace
That lulls me gently now
Though time should change my youthful face
And years should shade my brow”
Where silence dwells is sweeter far
Than laughing mirth’s most joyous swell
However pure its raptures are”
“What matters it, that, all around,
Danger, and guilt, and darkness lie,
If but within our bosom's bound
We hold a bright, untroubled sky,
Warm with ten thousand mingled rays
Of suns that know no winter days?”
“O may I never lose the peace
That lulls me gently now
Though time should change my youthful face
And years should shade my brow”
March 1, 2026
I read and reread some of these. Definitely spent more time with this volume and I always found myself opening it and wishing to carry it with me everywhere (probably not the best idea, the cover is no longer as pristine white as it was).
She loved nature and she was a very passionate creature. What can I say, I'm a gothic romantic at heart.
She loved nature and she was a very passionate creature. What can I say, I'm a gothic romantic at heart.
December 31, 2025
Many of these were enjoyable and found it nice reading her poems as had no idea that Brontë wrote any.
However the rhyming scheme of the poems was so repetitive that it felt a bit monotonous at times. I don’t know if this was just reflective of the time period?
However the rhyming scheme of the poems was so repetitive that it felt a bit monotonous at times. I don’t know if this was just reflective of the time period?
January 25, 2026
these poems are so melancholic and the sadness the poems echo are deep rooted in winter and nature. I feel like we’re lost these type of poems where there is so much is said about nature’s beauty and terror.
June 2, 2025
I haven’t loved a poetry collection this much since I first discovered Mary Oliver. Emily Brontë’s poetry really resonated with me. I will definitely be revisiting this book again very soon.
June 5, 2025
cro bien
June 29, 2025
i’m stupid and didn’t realise this had several untitled, unnumbered poems and not just one really long poem with inconsistent rhymes… will be rereading! the titled poems were beautiful!
July 7, 2025
Beautiful collection of poetry
September 30, 2025
4.75 ⭐️ - Oh Emily Brontë, the poet you are.
October 8, 2025
i love how we all feel the same things
Read
December 18, 2025Emily Brontë, the woman you were. A eulogy that is thought to be for Anne- her sister with a sprinkle of religion. Its chefs kiss
December 22, 2025
I don’t love her poetry. It’s just not for me.
December 29, 2025
Emily, I'm forever enthralled by your brilliance.
January 1, 2026
Mary Oliver’s gothic grandma
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews