Last Words

I knew not 'twas so dire a crime

To say the word, "Adieu;"

But this shall be the only time

My lips or heart shall sue.

That wild hill-side, the winter morn,

The gnarled and ancient tree,

If in your breast they waken scorn,

Shall wake the same in me.

I can forget black eyes and brows,

And lips of falsest charm,

If you forget the sacred vows

Those faithless lips could form.

If hard commands can tame your love,

Or strongest walls can hold,

I would not wish to grieve above

A thing so false and cold.

And there are bosoms bound to mine

With links both tried and strong:

And there are eyes whose lightning shine

Has warmed and blest me long:

Those eyes shall make my only day,

Shall set my spirit free,

And chase the foolish thoughts away

That mourn your memory.

Emily Brontë

Emily Brontë (born July 30, 1818, Thornton, Yorkshire, England—died December 19, 1848, Haworth, Yorkshire) English novelist and poet who produced but one novel, Wuthering Heights (1847), a highly imaginative work of passion and hate set on the Yorkshire moors. Emily was perhaps the greatest of the three Brontë sisters, but the record of her life is extremely meagre, for she was silent and reserved and left no correspondence of interest, and her single novel darkens rather than solves the mystery of her spiritual existence. Emily went on to write almost 200 poems in her life but only a small fraction were published in her life time (Brownson). Her only novel,Wuthering Heights, is one of her most famous works. Emily was often seen as a very strange woman who never was able to leave this isolation. In September 1848. She became sick with consumption and refused medical attention in October 1848. Emily sadly died at the age of 30 only a few months later on December 9 (Brownson).

More poems from same author

Last Words Hope Anticipation Holyday Last Lines

Last Words

More poems from same author

Subscribe to our newsletter.