In the Dark

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing dear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

by Emily Brontë (1818-1848)

This entry was posted on February 4, 2012 at 10:02 pm and is filed under Poetry with tags Emily Bronte, Poem, Spellbound. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.