Emily Jane Brontë (Эмили Бронте)

* * *

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day. 

1. The Elder's Rebuke
2. Often Rebuked, Yet Always Back Returning
3. Well Hast Thou Spoke
4. Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place
5. If Grief For Grief Can Touch Thee

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