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Poem by Emily Jane Brontë


Past, Present, Future


Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
What the past is like to thee ?
'An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully.'

Tell me, what is the present hour ?
'A green and flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its power
To mount and fly away.'

And what is the future, happy one ?
'A sea beneath a cloudless sun ;
A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity.' 



Emily Jane Brontë


Emily Jane Brontë's other poems:
  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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