148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of "Currer Bell" In quiet "Haworth" laid. Gathered from many wanderings — Gethsemane can tell Thro` what transporting anguish She reached the Asphodel! Soft falls the sounds of Eden Upon her puzzled ear — Oh what an afternoon for Heaven, When "Bronte" entered there!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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