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I cannot love thee; thou ‘rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!

Emily Bronte

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

Cold Darkness Myself Night Wild Wind
It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered.
EMILY BRONTE

Company Herself People Talk
You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!
EMILY BRONTE

Existence Forget Myself Yourself
I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me.
EMILY BRONTE

Break Up Death Heart Himself Love Myself Return
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
EMILY BRONTE

Forever Freedom Hope Life Night Offering
May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you – haunt me, then.
EMILY BRONTE

Haunt Kill Live Myself
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
EMILY BRONTE

People Proud Sad Sorrow
She burned too bright for this world.
EMILY BRONTE

Bright Burn Herself Instagram Captions World
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
EMILY BRONTE

Bloom Flower Growth Myself Rose Smile Snow
Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, While the world’s tide is bearing me along; Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong.
EMILY BRONTE

Desire Forget Hope Love Myself World Wrong Youth
You must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.
EMILY BRONTE

Forgiveness Struggle Yourself
Nay, you’ll be ashamed of me everyday of your life,” he answered; “and the more ashamed, the more you know me; and I cannot bide it.
EMILY BRONTE

Life Love Myself Reality Relationship Shame Yourself
The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child; Forsake thy books, and mate less play; And, while the night is gathering grey, We’ll talk its pensive hours away.
EMILY BRONTE

Loud Night Play Wild Wind Winter
You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.
EMILY BRONTE

Cultivate Life Occasion Reflection Silly Yourself
What kind of living will it be when you – Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
EMILY BRONTE

Deep Grave Kind Live Soul Yourself
Cold in the earth and the deeps now piled above thee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last byTime’s all-serving wave?
EMILY BRONTE

Cold Deep Earth Forgot Grave Love Service Wave

I cannot love thee; thou ‘rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!

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I cannot love thee; thou ‘rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God’s pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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