Emily Jane Brontë (Эмили Бронте)

Love and Friendship

Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?

The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?

Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green. 

1. Warning and Reply
2. The Elder's Rebuke
3. Death, That Struck When I Was Most Confiding
4. The Wanderer from the Fold
5. The Wind Was Rough Which Tore

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