Wind Was Rough Which Tore, The

Emily Bronte

The wind was rough which tore
That leaf from its parent tree 
The fate was cruel which bore 
The withering corpse to me 

We wander on we have no rest
It is a dreary way 

What shadow is it
That ever moves before [my] eyes 
It has a brow of ghostly whiteness

Next 10 Poems

• Emily Bronte : Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place'
• Rupert Brooke : 1914 I: Peace
• Rupert Brooke : 1914 Ii: Safety
• Rupert Brooke : 1914 Iii: The Dead
• Rupert Brooke : 1914 Iv: The Dead
• Rupert Brooke : 1914 V: The Soldier
• Rupert Brooke : A Channel Passage
• Rupert Brooke : A Letter To A Live Poet
• Rupert Brooke : A Memory
• Rupert Brooke : A Memory ( From A Sonnet- Sequence )

Previous 10 Poems

• Emily Bronte : To Imagination
• Emily Bronte : Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight
• Emily Bronte : The Visionary
• Emily Bronte : The Sun Has Set
• Emily Bronte : The Prisoner
• Emily Bronte : The Philosopher
• Emily Bronte : The Old Stoic
• Emily Bronte : The Night Is Darkening Round Me
• Emily Bronte : The Night Is Darkening Around Me
• Emily Bronte : The Night - Wind