Appeal

Anne Bronte

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!

Next 10 Poems

• Anne Bronte : Arbour, The
• Anne Bronte : Bluebell, The
• Anne Bronte : Call Me Away
• Anne Bronte : Captive Dove, The
• Anne Bronte : Captive's Dream, The
• Anne Bronte : Confidence
• Anne Bronte : Consolation, The
• Anne Bronte : Despondency
• Anne Bronte : Doubter's Prayer, The
• Anne Bronte : Dreams

Previous 10 Poems

• Anne Bronte : An Orphan's Lament
• Anne Bronte : Alexander And Zenobia
• Anne Bronte : A Word To The 'elect'
• Anne Bronte : A Word To The Calvinists
• Anne Bronte : A Voice From The Dungeon
• Anne Bronte : A Reminiscence
• Anne Bronte : A Prisoner In A Dungeon Deep
• Anne Bronte : A Hymn
• Anne Bronte : A Fragment
• Joseph Brodsky : Tsushima Screen