The night is darkening round me The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound meAnd I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighted with snow,
And the storm is fast descending
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds upon clouds above me,
Wastes upon wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.
— Emily Brontë
No comments:
Post a Comment