Night

Anne Bronte

I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes! 
And then a voice may meet my ear
That death has silenced long ago;
And hope and rapture may appear
Instead of solitude and woe. 

Cold in the grave for years has lain
The form it was my bliss to see,
And only dreams can bring again
The darling of my heart to me.

Next 10 Poems

• Anne Bronte : North Wind, The
• Anne Bronte : Oh, They Have Robbed Me Of The Hope
• Anne Bronte : Parting Address From Z.z. To A.e.
• Anne Bronte : Parting, The
• Anne Bronte : Parting, The ( 2 )
• Anne Bronte : Past Days
• Anne Bronte : Penitent, The
• Anne Bronte : Power Of Love
• Anne Bronte : Retirement
• Anne Bronte : Self Communion

Previous 10 Poems

• Anne Bronte : Narrow Way, The
• Anne Bronte : My God! O Let Me Call Thee Mine!
• Anne Bronte : Music On Christmas Morning
• Anne Bronte : Monday Night May 11th 1846 / Domestic Peace
• Anne Bronte : Mirth And Mourning
• Anne Bronte : Memory
• Anne Bronte : Lines Written From Home
• Anne Bronte : Lines Written At Thorp Green
• Anne Bronte : Lines Inscribed On The Wall Of A Dungeon In The Southern P Of I
• Anne Bronte : Lines Composed In A Wood On A Windy Day