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Brontes: Selected Poems
The Bronte sisters lives and works have become modern-day cultural touchstones.
Emily Bronte, best known for her novel WUTHERING HEIGHTS, began writing poetry first and, before her untimely death, wrote some of the most touching and emotive poems which often reflected the landscape of her Yorkshire home.
Charlotte Bronte, whose novel JANE EYRE has had numerous TV and film adaptations, took responsibility for finding a home for their work. In her own words, ' We had very early cherished the dream of one day becoming authors'.
Anne Bronte, author of AGNES GREY, often used autobiographical elements in her poems, giving us a hints of the struggles and turmoil of her life.
These poems offer glimpses of the joys and sorrows of the Brontes and are a beautifully compelling introduction to their writing and lives.
Emily Bronte, best known for her novel WUTHERING HEIGHTS, began writing poetry first and, before her untimely death, wrote some of the most touching and emotive poems which often reflected the landscape of her Yorkshire home.
Charlotte Bronte, whose novel JANE EYRE has had numerous TV and film adaptations, took responsibility for finding a home for their work. In her own words, ' We had very early cherished the dream of one day becoming authors'.
Anne Bronte, author of AGNES GREY, often used autobiographical elements in her poems, giving us a hints of the struggles and turmoil of her life.
These poems offer glimpses of the joys and sorrows of the Brontes and are a beautifully compelling introduction to their writing and lives.
128 pages, Paperback
Published January 10, 2023
27 people are currently reading
179 people want to read
About the author
Charlotte Brontë
2,331 books19.4k followersCharlotte Brontë was an English novelist, the eldest out of the three famous Brontë sisters whose novels have become standards of English literature. See also Emily Brontë and Anne Brontë.
Charlotte Brontë was born in Thornton, Yorkshire, England, the third of six children, to Patrick Brontë (formerly "Patrick Brunty"), an Irish Anglican clergyman, and his wife, Maria Branwell. In April 1820 the family moved a few miles to Haworth, a remote town on the Yorkshire moors, where Patrick had been appointed Perpetual Curate. This is where the Brontë children would spend most of their lives. Maria Branwell Brontë died from what was thought to be cancer on 15 September 1821, leaving five daughters and a son to the care of her spinster sister Elizabeth Branwell, who moved to Yorkshire to help the family.
In August 1824 Charlotte, along with her sisters Emily, Maria, and Elizabeth, was sent to the Clergy Daughters' School at Cowan Bridge in Lancashire, a new school for the daughters of poor clergyman (which she would describe as Lowood School in Jane Eyre). The school was a horrific experience for the girls and conditions were appalling. They were regularly deprived of food, beaten by teachers and humiliated for the slightest error. The school was unheated and the pupils slept two to a bed for warmth. Seven pupils died in a typhus epidemic that swept the school and all four of the Brontë girls became very ill - Maria and Elizabeth dying of tuberculosis in 1825. Her experiences at the school deeply affected Brontë - her health never recovered and she immortalised the cruel and brutal treatment in her novel, Jane Eyre. Following the tragedy, their father withdrew his daughters from the school.
At home in Haworth Parsonage, Charlotte and the other surviving children — Branwell, Emily, and Anne — continued their ad-hoc education. In 1826 her father returned home with a box of toy soldiers for Branwell. They would prove the catalyst for the sisters' extraordinary creative development as they immediately set to creating lives and characters for the soldiers, inventing a world for them which the siblings called 'Angria'. The siblings became addicted to writing, creating stories, poetry and plays. Brontë later said that the reason for this burst of creativity was that:
'We were wholly dependent on ourselves and each other, on books and study, for the enjoyments and occupations of life. The highest stimulus, as well as the liveliest pleasure we had known from childhood upwards, lay in attempts at literary composition.'
After her father began to suffer from a lung disorder, Charlotte was again sent to school to complete her education at Roe Head school in Mirfield from 1831 to 1832, where she met her lifelong friends and correspondents, Ellen Nussey and Mary Taylor. During this period (1833), she wrote her novella The Green Dwarf under the name of Wellesley. The school was extremely small with only ten pupils meaning the top floor was completely unused and believed to be supposedly haunted by the ghost of a young lady dressed in silk. This story fascinated Brontë and inspired the figure of Mrs Rochester in Jane Eyre.
Brontë left the school after a few years, however she swiftly returned in 1835 to take up a position as a teacher, and used her wages to pay for Emily and Anne to be taught at the school. Teaching did not appeal to Brontë and in 1838 she left Roe Head to become a governess to the Sidgewick family -- partly from a sense of adventure and a desire to see the world, and partly from financial necessity.
Charlotte became pregnant soon after her wedding, but her health declined rapidly and, according to biographer Elizabeth Gaskell, she was attacked by "sensations of perpetual nausea and ever-recurring faintness." She died, with her unborn child, on 31 March 1855.
Charlotte Brontë was born in Thornton, Yorkshire, England, the third of six children, to Patrick Brontë (formerly "Patrick Brunty"), an Irish Anglican clergyman, and his wife, Maria Branwell. In April 1820 the family moved a few miles to Haworth, a remote town on the Yorkshire moors, where Patrick had been appointed Perpetual Curate. This is where the Brontë children would spend most of their lives. Maria Branwell Brontë died from what was thought to be cancer on 15 September 1821, leaving five daughters and a son to the care of her spinster sister Elizabeth Branwell, who moved to Yorkshire to help the family.
In August 1824 Charlotte, along with her sisters Emily, Maria, and Elizabeth, was sent to the Clergy Daughters' School at Cowan Bridge in Lancashire, a new school for the daughters of poor clergyman (which she would describe as Lowood School in Jane Eyre). The school was a horrific experience for the girls and conditions were appalling. They were regularly deprived of food, beaten by teachers and humiliated for the slightest error. The school was unheated and the pupils slept two to a bed for warmth. Seven pupils died in a typhus epidemic that swept the school and all four of the Brontë girls became very ill - Maria and Elizabeth dying of tuberculosis in 1825. Her experiences at the school deeply affected Brontë - her health never recovered and she immortalised the cruel and brutal treatment in her novel, Jane Eyre. Following the tragedy, their father withdrew his daughters from the school.
At home in Haworth Parsonage, Charlotte and the other surviving children — Branwell, Emily, and Anne — continued their ad-hoc education. In 1826 her father returned home with a box of toy soldiers for Branwell. They would prove the catalyst for the sisters' extraordinary creative development as they immediately set to creating lives and characters for the soldiers, inventing a world for them which the siblings called 'Angria'. The siblings became addicted to writing, creating stories, poetry and plays. Brontë later said that the reason for this burst of creativity was that:
'We were wholly dependent on ourselves and each other, on books and study, for the enjoyments and occupations of life. The highest stimulus, as well as the liveliest pleasure we had known from childhood upwards, lay in attempts at literary composition.'
After her father began to suffer from a lung disorder, Charlotte was again sent to school to complete her education at Roe Head school in Mirfield from 1831 to 1832, where she met her lifelong friends and correspondents, Ellen Nussey and Mary Taylor. During this period (1833), she wrote her novella The Green Dwarf under the name of Wellesley. The school was extremely small with only ten pupils meaning the top floor was completely unused and believed to be supposedly haunted by the ghost of a young lady dressed in silk. This story fascinated Brontë and inspired the figure of Mrs Rochester in Jane Eyre.
Brontë left the school after a few years, however she swiftly returned in 1835 to take up a position as a teacher, and used her wages to pay for Emily and Anne to be taught at the school. Teaching did not appeal to Brontë and in 1838 she left Roe Head to become a governess to the Sidgewick family -- partly from a sense of adventure and a desire to see the world, and partly from financial necessity.
Charlotte became pregnant soon after her wedding, but her health declined rapidly and, according to biographer Elizabeth Gaskell, she was attacked by "sensations of perpetual nausea and ever-recurring faintness." She died, with her unborn child, on 31 March 1855.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews
November 20, 2023
full of heartache, yearning, gloom and grief... my Brontë heart is broken
April 21, 2024
what did these siblings eat???
December 27, 2023
Read these poems over the last couple months during my morning reading. I really enjoyed reading the different styles of the Brontes next to each other in a single book. Anne Bronte’s selections were my favorite.
May 14, 2025
Those poor siblings needed therapy 😫😭 omg
December 29, 2023
3.5
“And sometime the loved and the loving | Shall meet on the mountains again”
“And sometime the loved and the loving | Shall meet on the mountains again”
May 23, 2024
Brontës: Selected Poems [9781474625678, The Great Poets]
Such a delight to purchase a book of poems by all four adult siblings. ***** 5/5 stars.
Editor Pamela Norris states Emily’s powerful emotions are “.. expressed in extraordinarily fluid verse.” (p.xxiii)
Obviously overshadowed by Charlotte and Emily the writings of Branwell and Anne should not be diminished. In ‘Augusta’ Branwell writes “How like the chaos od my soul Where visions ever rise / And thoughts and passions ceaseless roll, And tumult never dies.” (p22)
Branwell’s best poem is the unambiguous ‘Epistle From a Father to a Child in Her Grave’ (p36-38).
“Of the four Brontës, Anne appears to have written most openly from the heart,” (from the intro on p.xxii). ‘Memory’ and ‘A Prayer’ and two samples. Commenting on ‘A Prayer’ the editor writes somewhat harshly, “Again, a pale reflection of Christine Rossetti’s passionate ‘The heart knoweth its own bitterness,’ and John Donne’s equally explicit ‘Batter my heart.’” Two very lofty poems to be compared to! But she is correct in concluding ‘AB’s expression was ess forceful, but possibly her longing to be claimed by God was none the less heartfelt.” (p100)
[See also how the bliss of ‘The Arbour’ and the dread of ‘Last Lines’ appear on the same open pages (p.90-91).]
……………………..
Some poems include:
Charlotte’s "Parting" - Beautiful!
“There’s no use in weeping,
Though we are condemned to
There’s such a thing as keeping
A remembrance in one’s
There’s such a thing as dwelling
On the thought ourselves have nurs’d,
And with scorn and courage telling
The world to do its worst. ...” etc
..
Branwell’s “Augusta” - very impressed with this poem.
..
Emily’s “STANZAS” – Tender words of sweetness and affection for the dying and departed
..
Emily’s “The Night-Wind” – So moody! My favourite author!
In summer's mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window,
And rose-trees wet with dew.
I sat in silent musing;
The soft wind waved my hair;
It told me heaven was glorious,
And sleeping earth was fair.
I needed not its breathing
To bring such thoughts to me;
But still it whispered lowly,
How dark the woods will be!
"The thick leaves in my murmur
Are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices
Instinct with spirit seem."
I said, "Go, gentle singer,
Thy wooing voice is kind:
But do not think its music
Has power to reach my mind.
"Play with the scented flower,
The young tree's supple bough,
And leave my human feelings
In their own course to flow."
The wanderer would not heed me;
Its kiss grew warmer still.
"O come!" it sighed so sweetly;
"I'll win thee 'gainst thy will.
"Were we not friends from childhood?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as thou, the solemn night,
Whose silence wakes my song.
"And when thy heart is resting
Beneath the church-aisle stone,
I shall have time for mourning,
And THOU for being alone."
….
Emily’s “THE OLD STOIC” - Worth memorising. Always an experience to read her poems, ‘Riches I hold in light esteem… In life and death....’
…
Emily’s “TO IMAGINATION” - Immersive!
“When weary with the long day's care,
And earthly change from pain to pain,
And lost, and ready to despair,
Thy kind voice calls me back again:
Oh, my true friend! I am not lone,
While then canst speak with such a tone!
So hopeless is the world without;
The world within I doubly prize;
Thy world, where guile, and hate, and doubt,
And cold suspicion never rise;
Where thou, and I, and Liberty,
Have undisputed sovereignty.
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?
Reason, indeed, may oft complain
For Nature's sad reality,
And tell the suffering heart how vain
Its cherished dreams must always be;
And Truth may rudely trample down
The flowers of Fancy, newly-blown:
But thou art ever there, to bring
The hovering vision back, and breathe
New glories o'er the blighted spring,
And call a lovelier Life from Death.
And whisper, with a voice divine,
Of real worlds, as bright as thine.
I trust not to thy phantom bliss,
Yet, still, in evening's quiet hour,
With never-failing thankfulness,
I welcome thee, Benignant Power;
Sure solacer of human cares,
And sweeter hope, when hope despairs!
- - -
Emily’s “REMEMBRANCE” – Worth reading frequently.
“Cold in the earth .. Have I forgot .. to love thee…?”
…
Emily’s “STARS” – Unique perspective
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored my earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?
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!
I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me
And reveled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.
Thought followed thought—star followed star
Through boundless regions on,
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through and proved us one.
Why did the morning rise to break
So great, so pure a spell,
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek
Where your cool radiance fell?
Blood-red he rose, and arrow-straight,
His fierce beams struck my brow;
The soul of Nature sprang elate,
But mine sank sad and low!
My lids closed down—yet through their veil
I saw him blazing still;
And bathe in gold the misty dale,
And flash upon the hill.
I turned me to the pillow then
To call back Night, and see
Your worlds of solemn light, again
Throb with my heart and me!
It would not do—the pillow glowed
And glowed both roof and floor,
And birds sang loudly in the wood,
And fresh winds shook the door.
The curtains waved, the wakened flies
Were murmuring round my room,
Imprisoned there, till I should rise
And give them leave to roam.
O Stars and Dreams and Gentle Night;
O Night and Stars return!
And hide me from the hostile light
That does not warm, but burn—
That drains the blood of suffering men;
Drinks tears, instead of dew:
Let me sleep through his blinding reign,
And only wake with you!
…
Emily’s “THE PRISONER” – Divine, literally.
“In the dungeon crypts … overruled by heaven.”
..
Emily’s “No Coward..” - Iconic!
No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest,
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
Though earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee
There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
….
Anne’s “APPEAL”:
So gritty!
“Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow; My eyes are tires of weeping, My heart is sick of woe; My life is very lonely, My days pass heavily, I'm wearing of repining, Wilt thou not come to me? Oh, didst thou know my longings For thee, from day to day, My hopes, so often blighted, Thou wouldst not thus delay!
..
Anne’s “Despondency” – feeling the shame of her humanity.
..
Anne’s “The Consolation” – Oh the longing!!
“Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground
With fallen leaves so thickly strown,
And cold the wind that wanders round
With wild and melancholy moan;
There IS a friendly roof, I know,
Might shield me from the wintry blast;
There is a fire, whose ruddy glow
Will cheer me for my wanderings past.
…
Anne’s “A Prayer” – wow!!
My God (oh, let me call Thee mine, Weak, wretched sinner though I be), My trembling soul would fain be Thine; My feeble faith still clings to Thee. Not only for the Past I grieve, The Future fills me with dismay; Unless Thou hasten to relieve, Thy suppliant is a castaway. I cannot say my faith is strong, I dare not hope my love is great; But strength and love to Thee belong; Oh, do not leave me desolate! I know I owe my all to Thee; Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give! Do Thou my strength--my Saviour be, And MAKE me to Thy glory live.
..
Anne’s “Home”
Concludes with the shout of “.. Oh, give me back my HOME!”
Such a delight to purchase a book of poems by all four adult siblings. ***** 5/5 stars.
Editor Pamela Norris states Emily’s powerful emotions are “.. expressed in extraordinarily fluid verse.” (p.xxiii)
Obviously overshadowed by Charlotte and Emily the writings of Branwell and Anne should not be diminished. In ‘Augusta’ Branwell writes “How like the chaos od my soul Where visions ever rise / And thoughts and passions ceaseless roll, And tumult never dies.” (p22)
Branwell’s best poem is the unambiguous ‘Epistle From a Father to a Child in Her Grave’ (p36-38).
“Of the four Brontës, Anne appears to have written most openly from the heart,” (from the intro on p.xxii). ‘Memory’ and ‘A Prayer’ and two samples. Commenting on ‘A Prayer’ the editor writes somewhat harshly, “Again, a pale reflection of Christine Rossetti’s passionate ‘The heart knoweth its own bitterness,’ and John Donne’s equally explicit ‘Batter my heart.’” Two very lofty poems to be compared to! But she is correct in concluding ‘AB’s expression was ess forceful, but possibly her longing to be claimed by God was none the less heartfelt.” (p100)
[See also how the bliss of ‘The Arbour’ and the dread of ‘Last Lines’ appear on the same open pages (p.90-91).]
……………………..
Some poems include:
Charlotte’s "Parting" - Beautiful!
“There’s no use in weeping,
Though we are condemned to
There’s such a thing as keeping
A remembrance in one’s
There’s such a thing as dwelling
On the thought ourselves have nurs’d,
And with scorn and courage telling
The world to do its worst. ...” etc
..
Branwell’s “Augusta” - very impressed with this poem.
..
Emily’s “STANZAS” – Tender words of sweetness and affection for the dying and departed
..
Emily’s “The Night-Wind” – So moody! My favourite author!
In summer's mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window,
And rose-trees wet with dew.
I sat in silent musing;
The soft wind waved my hair;
It told me heaven was glorious,
And sleeping earth was fair.
I needed not its breathing
To bring such thoughts to me;
But still it whispered lowly,
How dark the woods will be!
"The thick leaves in my murmur
Are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices
Instinct with spirit seem."
I said, "Go, gentle singer,
Thy wooing voice is kind:
But do not think its music
Has power to reach my mind.
"Play with the scented flower,
The young tree's supple bough,
And leave my human feelings
In their own course to flow."
The wanderer would not heed me;
Its kiss grew warmer still.
"O come!" it sighed so sweetly;
"I'll win thee 'gainst thy will.
"Were we not friends from childhood?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as thou, the solemn night,
Whose silence wakes my song.
"And when thy heart is resting
Beneath the church-aisle stone,
I shall have time for mourning,
And THOU for being alone."
….
Emily’s “THE OLD STOIC” - Worth memorising. Always an experience to read her poems, ‘Riches I hold in light esteem… In life and death....’
…
Emily’s “TO IMAGINATION” - Immersive!
“When weary with the long day's care,
And earthly change from pain to pain,
And lost, and ready to despair,
Thy kind voice calls me back again:
Oh, my true friend! I am not lone,
While then canst speak with such a tone!
So hopeless is the world without;
The world within I doubly prize;
Thy world, where guile, and hate, and doubt,
And cold suspicion never rise;
Where thou, and I, and Liberty,
Have undisputed sovereignty.
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?
Reason, indeed, may oft complain
For Nature's sad reality,
And tell the suffering heart how vain
Its cherished dreams must always be;
And Truth may rudely trample down
The flowers of Fancy, newly-blown:
But thou art ever there, to bring
The hovering vision back, and breathe
New glories o'er the blighted spring,
And call a lovelier Life from Death.
And whisper, with a voice divine,
Of real worlds, as bright as thine.
I trust not to thy phantom bliss,
Yet, still, in evening's quiet hour,
With never-failing thankfulness,
I welcome thee, Benignant Power;
Sure solacer of human cares,
And sweeter hope, when hope despairs!
- - -
Emily’s “REMEMBRANCE” – Worth reading frequently.
“Cold in the earth .. Have I forgot .. to love thee…?”
…
Emily’s “STARS” – Unique perspective
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored my earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?
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!
I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me
And reveled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.
Thought followed thought—star followed star
Through boundless regions on,
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through and proved us one.
Why did the morning rise to break
So great, so pure a spell,
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek
Where your cool radiance fell?
Blood-red he rose, and arrow-straight,
His fierce beams struck my brow;
The soul of Nature sprang elate,
But mine sank sad and low!
My lids closed down—yet through their veil
I saw him blazing still;
And bathe in gold the misty dale,
And flash upon the hill.
I turned me to the pillow then
To call back Night, and see
Your worlds of solemn light, again
Throb with my heart and me!
It would not do—the pillow glowed
And glowed both roof and floor,
And birds sang loudly in the wood,
And fresh winds shook the door.
The curtains waved, the wakened flies
Were murmuring round my room,
Imprisoned there, till I should rise
And give them leave to roam.
O Stars and Dreams and Gentle Night;
O Night and Stars return!
And hide me from the hostile light
That does not warm, but burn—
That drains the blood of suffering men;
Drinks tears, instead of dew:
Let me sleep through his blinding reign,
And only wake with you!
…
Emily’s “THE PRISONER” – Divine, literally.
“In the dungeon crypts … overruled by heaven.”
..
Emily’s “No Coward..” - Iconic!
No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest,
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
Though earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee
There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
….
Anne’s “APPEAL”:
So gritty!
“Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow; My eyes are tires of weeping, My heart is sick of woe; My life is very lonely, My days pass heavily, I'm wearing of repining, Wilt thou not come to me? Oh, didst thou know my longings For thee, from day to day, My hopes, so often blighted, Thou wouldst not thus delay!
..
Anne’s “Despondency” – feeling the shame of her humanity.
..
Anne’s “The Consolation” – Oh the longing!!
“Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground
With fallen leaves so thickly strown,
And cold the wind that wanders round
With wild and melancholy moan;
There IS a friendly roof, I know,
Might shield me from the wintry blast;
There is a fire, whose ruddy glow
Will cheer me for my wanderings past.
…
Anne’s “A Prayer” – wow!!
My God (oh, let me call Thee mine, Weak, wretched sinner though I be), My trembling soul would fain be Thine; My feeble faith still clings to Thee. Not only for the Past I grieve, The Future fills me with dismay; Unless Thou hasten to relieve, Thy suppliant is a castaway. I cannot say my faith is strong, I dare not hope my love is great; But strength and love to Thee belong; Oh, do not leave me desolate! I know I owe my all to Thee; Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give! Do Thou my strength--my Saviour be, And MAKE me to Thy glory live.
..
Anne’s “Home”
Concludes with the shout of “.. Oh, give me back my HOME!”
April 6, 2024
4.5 stars. What a lovely collection. This is the first time I read anything from the Brontë siblings and now I am really excited to try my hand at some of their novels.
August 28, 2023
The Brontë siblings aren’t the best poets I’ve read but they are wonderful nonetheless. Romantic and imaginative, their poetry was beautiful to read.
Read
December 31, 2023i need to go to haworth immediately
this is everything
this is everything
February 5, 2026
It's no secret that I've adored Emily Brontë and her masterpiece Wuthering Heights since I was a mere fourteen years old. When I was fifteen, I bought her Complete Poems, but didn't properly read the full volume until I was seventeen - and I really enjoyed it, and I always love when her poetry comes up in other anthologies.
I've always been intrigued to read Anne and Charlotte's poetry, because I'm so enthralled by the Brontë life; even despite not reading Anne's novels until I was twenty-one, and not thinking very highly of Jane Eyre. Sadly their respective poems are largely out of current print, but this collection is lovely.
I really appreciate the biographical note, foreword, timeline, and the notes on each poem, providing lots of context for any new or confused Brontë scholar. A great surprise of this collection is a selection of Branwell's poems. I didn't even know he wrote poetry, and I honestly considered him a waste of space until recently.
Charlotte's poems
I must admit to not expecting much. I detest Jane Eyre and haven't had the guts to broach Charlotte's other novels! However I was pleasantly surprised, she has a good ear for rhyme, despite adhering to the "it rhymes on the page but not phonetically" which annoys me in any poetry. Some poems could stand to be shorter, much like her prose, but lines 185 - 196 of Momentos were the first to make me smile, Parting you'll forgive me for saying is SO TwoJamie coded, Life had a good flow to it, and He Saw My Heart's Woe is a fantastic depiction of female rage.
Branwell's poems
I was quite shocked by how instantly good Augusta is. With what I've read of Branwell's treatment of his sisters, I formed a negative bias against him and assumed him talentless. Perhaps I should investigate his life more. After a few dud poems, On Caroline almost floored me. Love and death seems to be the Brontë family's forte. Death Triumphant and To Sestius deserve a mention. Oh Thou, Whose Beams Were Most Withdrawn might be my favourite of Branwell's selection, a very rich atmosphere and easy flow.
Emily's poems
Emily is the Brontë I'm most acquainted with, having experienced her poetry before, so I knew what talent she possessed. I feel greatly compelled to re-read her Complete Poems now that I'm twenty-one, as I don't think I had the capacity to fully appreciate them when I was seventeen. If I were to list the poems by Emily that I adored from this collection, I would simply list every single one of her poems featured. I forgot how much I ADORE her verse, because I'm so often fixated on her prose. Emily doesn't miss a beat, every syllable so deliberate, and her rhyme and rhythm are near-perfect, and her imagery is immense. Just when I think I can't love Emily Brontë more, I re-read her work and am overwhelmed by how great she was.
Anne's poems
This is the section I was most excited for. Anne is the criminally underrated yet inexorably talented Brontë sister. Her two novels, Agnes Grey and The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall, are classic masterpieces in their own rights. I had never read any of Anne's poetry before, but if the quality of her prose was anything to go by, she'd be a talented poet - and I was right! Instantly The Bluebell made me emotional. Like Emily, Anne is a very competent poet - she knows her structure and rhyme - and she also knows her muses so very well. Her clear love of flowers and nature and botany thrills me to no end, such as in Lines Written At Thorp Green, and she clearly had a keen eye for nature, and a keen heart for musing and brooding. Like with Emily's poems, I love every one of Anne's that is featured here, and some I feel I should have written myself, like Despondency, In Memory Of A Happy Day In February, Lines Composed In A Wood On A Windy Day, A Prayer, If This Be All, and now I'm far more keen to seek coveted collections of Anne's poetry or the famous Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell. Oh Anne Brontë my love for you will compensate for the world's negligence.
I also must find their writings of Gondal and Angria and Glass Town! Why is so much out of print or hard to find?!
I've always been intrigued to read Anne and Charlotte's poetry, because I'm so enthralled by the Brontë life; even despite not reading Anne's novels until I was twenty-one, and not thinking very highly of Jane Eyre. Sadly their respective poems are largely out of current print, but this collection is lovely.
I really appreciate the biographical note, foreword, timeline, and the notes on each poem, providing lots of context for any new or confused Brontë scholar. A great surprise of this collection is a selection of Branwell's poems. I didn't even know he wrote poetry, and I honestly considered him a waste of space until recently.
Charlotte's poems
I must admit to not expecting much. I detest Jane Eyre and haven't had the guts to broach Charlotte's other novels! However I was pleasantly surprised, she has a good ear for rhyme, despite adhering to the "it rhymes on the page but not phonetically" which annoys me in any poetry. Some poems could stand to be shorter, much like her prose, but lines 185 - 196 of Momentos were the first to make me smile, Parting you'll forgive me for saying is SO TwoJamie coded, Life had a good flow to it, and He Saw My Heart's Woe is a fantastic depiction of female rage.
Branwell's poems
I was quite shocked by how instantly good Augusta is. With what I've read of Branwell's treatment of his sisters, I formed a negative bias against him and assumed him talentless. Perhaps I should investigate his life more. After a few dud poems, On Caroline almost floored me. Love and death seems to be the Brontë family's forte. Death Triumphant and To Sestius deserve a mention. Oh Thou, Whose Beams Were Most Withdrawn might be my favourite of Branwell's selection, a very rich atmosphere and easy flow.
Emily's poems
Emily is the Brontë I'm most acquainted with, having experienced her poetry before, so I knew what talent she possessed. I feel greatly compelled to re-read her Complete Poems now that I'm twenty-one, as I don't think I had the capacity to fully appreciate them when I was seventeen. If I were to list the poems by Emily that I adored from this collection, I would simply list every single one of her poems featured. I forgot how much I ADORE her verse, because I'm so often fixated on her prose. Emily doesn't miss a beat, every syllable so deliberate, and her rhyme and rhythm are near-perfect, and her imagery is immense. Just when I think I can't love Emily Brontë more, I re-read her work and am overwhelmed by how great she was.
Anne's poems
This is the section I was most excited for. Anne is the criminally underrated yet inexorably talented Brontë sister. Her two novels, Agnes Grey and The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall, are classic masterpieces in their own rights. I had never read any of Anne's poetry before, but if the quality of her prose was anything to go by, she'd be a talented poet - and I was right! Instantly The Bluebell made me emotional. Like Emily, Anne is a very competent poet - she knows her structure and rhyme - and she also knows her muses so very well. Her clear love of flowers and nature and botany thrills me to no end, such as in Lines Written At Thorp Green, and she clearly had a keen eye for nature, and a keen heart for musing and brooding. Like with Emily's poems, I love every one of Anne's that is featured here, and some I feel I should have written myself, like Despondency, In Memory Of A Happy Day In February, Lines Composed In A Wood On A Windy Day, A Prayer, If This Be All, and now I'm far more keen to seek coveted collections of Anne's poetry or the famous Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell. Oh Anne Brontë my love for you will compensate for the world's negligence.
I also must find their writings of Gondal and Angria and Glass Town! Why is so much out of print or hard to find?!
July 3, 2024
This short collection of poetry by the Brontë siblings is a brilliant introduction if you’re hesitant to dive into the novels of Charlotte, Emily, and Anne, plus it gives a glimpse into Branwell’s writings. All of the Brontës have their own distinct voice throughout the poems. Although Emily is widely regarded as the best poet of them all - and I did really enjoy her poetry here - my favourites had to be Anne and Branwell. Anne’s poetry moved me, especially the final poems which dealt with mortality. Likewise, Branwell’s poetry moved me, and I find it a deep shame that he never got to share the limelight with his sisters as I really enjoyed his poetry because it was deeply emotional and personal. I’d highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to find out more about the Brontës.
September 24, 2023
Not having read any other works of the Brontës, this feels like a nice introduction to their repertoire. The background this book provides of the writers together with the timeline makes for what feels like a solid base for interpretation of the Poems.
Personally I enjoyed the works of Anne Brontë in this book the most.
"Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day" and "Dreams" being favorites. They are a bit more joyful then the other writings and a have nice little twist (Dreams especially).
"To A.G.A." by Emily Jan Brontë is also very beautiful.
But could the day seem dark to me Because the night was fair?
Personally I enjoyed the works of Anne Brontë in this book the most.
"Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day" and "Dreams" being favorites. They are a bit more joyful then the other writings and a have nice little twist (Dreams especially).
"To A.G.A." by Emily Jan Brontë is also very beautiful.
But could the day seem dark to me Because the night was fair?
July 4, 2025
A wonderful collection of poetry noted by its simplicity and mostly rhyming couplets. I recently visited Haworth, the Yorkshire home of the Brontes and you could see how their home and the surrounding moors influenced their poetry
Most of the poetry is about nature and the themes have a similarity between Charlotte, Emily and Anne but I was most impressed by the poems of Bramwell who being the only brother and least successful of the siblings wrote his poetry expressing his pain of being unsuccessful and his drug and alchohol addictions. I particularly enjoyed "Memory"
A good collection.
Most of the poetry is about nature and the themes have a similarity between Charlotte, Emily and Anne but I was most impressed by the poems of Bramwell who being the only brother and least successful of the siblings wrote his poetry expressing his pain of being unsuccessful and his drug and alchohol addictions. I particularly enjoyed "Memory"
A good collection.
December 24, 2025
absolutely delightful to find out the brontë siblings continued to write in-universe poetry about the fantasy world they collectively made up into their adulthood.
also everyone except emily gets absolutely slaughtered by the introduction:
(…) Emily is consistently a better poet than Branwell, whose writing is too often vitiated by the failure of conviction that was characteristic of his behaviour in everyday life.
Branwell’s companion in poetry, his older sister Charlotte, is at her best only competent as a poet.
also everyone except emily gets absolutely slaughtered by the introduction:
(…) Emily is consistently a better poet than Branwell, whose writing is too often vitiated by the failure of conviction that was characteristic of his behaviour in everyday life.
Branwell’s companion in poetry, his older sister Charlotte, is at her best only competent as a poet.
January 28, 2025
4.5 stars! This was a beautiful book of Brontë poetry. Many poems about death and grief (which makes sense if you know anything about the Brontë’s lives).
I was especially drawn to Anne’s poetry, but I found new favorite poems from each of the siblings including: Mementos and On The Death of Emily Jane Brontë by Charlotte
Thorp Green by Patrick
Lines by Emily
Dreams, A Reminiscence, and Last Lines by Anne
If you’re looking to get into poetry I would recommend this book!!
I was especially drawn to Anne’s poetry, but I found new favorite poems from each of the siblings including: Mementos and On The Death of Emily Jane Brontë by Charlotte
Thorp Green by Patrick
Lines by Emily
Dreams, A Reminiscence, and Last Lines by Anne
If you’re looking to get into poetry I would recommend this book!!
July 15, 2025
This book is a brilliant collection of poetry by Anne, Charlotte, Emily, and Branwell Brontë. I liked that the editor included poems by Branwell as well. I was not aware that Branwell had actually written any poetry.
These poems explore death, regret, loss, melancholy, joy, love, family, friendship, doubt and faith, the transcendent, the seasons, and the wild Yorkshire landscape that the Brontë siblings loved so much.
These poems explore death, regret, loss, melancholy, joy, love, family, friendship, doubt and faith, the transcendent, the seasons, and the wild Yorkshire landscape that the Brontë siblings loved so much.
January 6, 2025
took me a lot longer to get through than i would have imagined!! it was nice to end on anne’s poems because tbh the stars that i have given this collection are mostly for her - but overall it’s becoming increasingly apparent that (and i feel so terrible saying this as a west yorkshire girlie) the brontë’s aren’t really for me
January 25, 2026
These are romantic and gothic and evocative poems. Some are part of the imaginary worlds and kingdoms the siblings have created - and now I want to know more about that! I was really surprised by Anne’s poems, which were rather simple, but more grounded in reality and her feelings, especially her homesickness. I really felt for her pain.
August 23, 2025
Enjoyed reading this so much!!⭐️⭐️
Feelings while reading: 📖, soothing, warm, grief, heard, curious, flabbergasted, calm, 🪷, ☀️, ❤️, 🌄,🍊.
Fell in love with the words, just can’t give a better description 💁🏼♀️💁🏼♀️
Feelings while reading: 📖, soothing, warm, grief, heard, curious, flabbergasted, calm, 🪷, ☀️, ❤️, 🌄,🍊.
Fell in love with the words, just can’t give a better description 💁🏼♀️💁🏼♀️
March 2, 2023
review to follow
September 3, 2023
Gloomy!
September 10, 2023
An absolute TRUDGE
June 18, 2024
Victorian gloom is the best kind of gloom.
I particularly enjoyed "The Teacher's Monologue" (by Charlotte B) & "Loud without the wind was roaring" (by Emily B).
I particularly enjoyed "The Teacher's Monologue" (by Charlotte B) & "Loud without the wind was roaring" (by Emily B).
June 24, 2024
Nice introduction to all of this family's poems, all of them with their unique ways of writing. Enjoyed all of them!
July 13, 2024
anne brontë and i are spiritually connected, no i will not elaborate
August 6, 2024
3.75 rounded up
August 16, 2024
reading bröntes poems made me feel closer to them, falling in love even more with their words and their beautiful writing
August 19, 2024
this being the first thing i read by the brontë siblings is shameful and something i have to change this autumn.
so many devastatingly sad poems in this selection
so many devastatingly sad poems in this selection
June 29, 2024
A collection of poems written by the Brontë siblings: Anne, Charlotte, Emily and Patrick.
It’s fascinating that these four siblings were masters in their craft and left such a profound legacy.
Pamela Norris did an amazing job selecting and editing this book. It begins with a chronology of not only the Brontë’s lives but also historic events of the time period. It’s a great way to contextualize the work and learn more about their lives. It also offers notes on each text, dating them and sometimes adding some explanation.
My favourite poems were those with themes of grief. It was heart-breaking to read two poems back-to-back written by Charlotte on the death of her two sisters, Emily and Anne, as well as Anne’s poem “Last Lines”, written after Emily’s death and after she was diagnosed with tuberculosis herself.
It’s fascinating that these four siblings were masters in their craft and left such a profound legacy.
Pamela Norris did an amazing job selecting and editing this book. It begins with a chronology of not only the Brontë’s lives but also historic events of the time period. It’s a great way to contextualize the work and learn more about their lives. It also offers notes on each text, dating them and sometimes adding some explanation.
My favourite poems were those with themes of grief. It was heart-breaking to read two poems back-to-back written by Charlotte on the death of her two sisters, Emily and Anne, as well as Anne’s poem “Last Lines”, written after Emily’s death and after she was diagnosed with tuberculosis herself.
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