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Anne Bronte - The Arbour
Work rating: Low

I`ll rest me in this sheltered bower,
And look upon the clear blue sky
That smiles upon me through the trees,
Which stand so thickly clustering by; 
And view their green and glossy leaves,
All glistening in the sunshine fair;
And list the rustling of their boughs,
So softly whispering through the air. 

And while my ear drinks in the sound,
My winged soul shall fly away;
Reviewing long departed years
As one mild, beaming, autumn day; 

And soaring on to future scenes,
Like hills and woods, and valleys green,
All basking in the summer`s sun,
But distant still, and dimly seen. 

Oh, list! `tis summer`s very breath
That gently shakes the rustling trees -­
But look! the snow is on the ground -­
How can I think of scenes like these? 

`Tis but the frost that clears the air,
And gives the sky that lovely blue;
They`re smiling in a winter`s sun,
Those evergreens of sombre hue. 

And winter`s chill is on my heart -­
How can I dream of future bliss?
How can my spirit soar away,
Confined by such a chain as this?
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