Poem by Emily Jane Brontë

Moonlight, Summer Moonlight

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head. 

1. She Dried Her Tears
2. Self-Interrogation
3. Mild the Mist upon the Hill
4. The Wanderer from the Fold
5. The Visionary

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