Anne Brontë (Энн Бронте)

* * *

Oh, they have robbed me of the hope
My spirit held so dear;
They will not let me hear that voice
My soul delights to hear.
They will not let me see that face
I so delight to see;
And they have taken all thy smiles,
And all thy love from me.

Well, let them seize on all they can: --
One treasure still is mine, --
A heart that loves to think on thee,
And feels the worth of thine. 

1. Lines Written at Thorp Green
2. Verses by Lady Geralda
3. Verses to a Child
4. Severed and Gone, So Many Years!
5. A Voice from the Dungeon

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