Poem by Anne Brontë

Appeal

Oh, I am very weary,
Though tears no longer flow;
My eyes are tires of weeping,
My heart is sick of woe;

My life is very lonely,
My days pass heavily,
I'm wearing of repining,
Wilt thou not come to me?

Oh, didst thou know my longings
For thee, from day to day,
My hopes, so often blighted,
Thou wouldst not thus delay! 

1. My God! O Let Me Call Thee Mine!
2. The Arbour
3. The Student's Serenade
4. Verses by Lady Geralda
5. Oh, They Have Robbed Me of the Hope

George MacDonald Appeal ("If in my arms I bore my child")

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