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Dreams - Anne Brontë
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Anne Brontë' was born on January 17, 1820 in Thornton, West Riding of Yorkshire, England. She was an English novelist and poet; and the youngest member of the Brontë literary family.
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Attribution:
Anne Brontë's portrait from Branwell Brontë, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
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Dreams
While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
Then I may cherish at my breast
An infant's form beloved and fair,
May smile and soothe it into rest
With all a Mother's fondest care.
How sweet to feel its helpless form
Depending thus on me alone!
And while I hold it safe and warm
What bliss to think it is my own!
And glances then may meet my eyes
That daylight never showed to me;
What raptures in my bosom rise,
Those earnest looks of love to see,
To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last,
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!
But then to wake and find it flown,
The dream of happiness destroyed,
To find myself unloved, alone,
What tongue can speak the dreary void?
A heart whence warm affections flow,
Creator, thou hast given to me,
And am I only thus to know
How sweet the joys of love would be?
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Eternal Poems creates its videos from the synergy of works in the public domain, modern media, computer animation, and artificial intelligence to bring the classic poems we love back to life and truly eternal.
Subscribe to Eternal Poems for more inspiring, motivating, and relaxing classic poems; read by poet avatars, with ambient sounds.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Attribution:
Anne Brontë's portrait from Branwell Brontë, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dreams
While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
Then I may cherish at my breast
An infant's form beloved and fair,
May smile and soothe it into rest
With all a Mother's fondest care.
How sweet to feel its helpless form
Depending thus on me alone!
And while I hold it safe and warm
What bliss to think it is my own!
And glances then may meet my eyes
That daylight never showed to me;
What raptures in my bosom rise,
Those earnest looks of love to see,
To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last,
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!
But then to wake and find it flown,
The dream of happiness destroyed,
To find myself unloved, alone,
What tongue can speak the dreary void?
A heart whence warm affections flow,
Creator, thou hast given to me,
And am I only thus to know
How sweet the joys of love would be?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eternal Poems creates its videos from the synergy of works in the public domain, modern media, computer animation, and artificial intelligence to bring the classic poems we love back to life and truly eternal.
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