Published on Academy of American Poets (https://poets.org)


Emily Brontë

What sacramental hurt that brings
The terror of the truth of things
Had changed thee? Secret be it yet.
’T was thine, upon a headland set,
To view no isles of man’s delight,
With lyric foam in rainbow flight,
But all a-swing, a-gleam, mid slow uproar,
Black sea, and curved uncouth sea-bitten shore.

Credit


This poem is in the public domain.

About this Poem


"Emily Brontë" first appeared in Happy Endings (Houghton Mifflin, 1909).

 

 

Author


Louise Imogen Guiney

Guiney, a poet, essayist, literary critic, and biographer, was born in Boston, Massachusetts in 1861. 

Date Published: 1909-01-01

Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/emily-bronte