[“My soul is awakened”] , p. 6
![[“My soul is awakened”] , p. 6](https://www.themorgan.org/sites/default/files/facsimile/download/81923v_0006.jpg){kind=link}
To Cowper and other poems : autograph manuscript of 9 poems, signed, 1842–1845
Purchased by Pierpont Morgan, 1900
“To ——” (pp. 4–6)
Dated December 1842, when Brontë was twenty-two. Not included in Poems (1846); first published in Ada May Harrison and Derek Stanford, Anne Brontë: Her Life and Work (London: Methuen & Co., 1959). Poem 20 in Chitham (1979).
[“My soul is awakened”] (pp. 6–7)
Dated 30 December 1842, when Brontë was twenty-two. First published in Poems (1846) with title “Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day.” Poem 21 in Chitham (1979).
That Angel smile that late so much,
Could my fond heart rejoice;
And he has silenced by his touch,
The music of thy voice,
I’ll weep no more thine early doom
But O I still must mourn
The pleasures buried in thy tomb
For they will not return!
A Brontë Dec 1842
————————
My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring,
And carried aloft on the wings of the wind breeze;
For around above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine shining is glancing
Text as published in Poems (1846)
LINES COMPOSED IN A WOOD ON A WINDY DAY.
My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
| Attachment | Size |
|---|---|
 BronteMA28.pdf | 15.07 MB |
[“My soul is awakened”] , p. 7
![[“My soul is awakened”] , p. 7](https://www.themorgan.org/sites/default/files/facsimile/download/81923v_0007.jpg){kind=link}
To Cowper and other poems : autograph manuscript of 9 poems, signed, 1842–1845
Purchased by Pierpont Morgan, 1900
[“My soul is awakened”] (pp. 6–7)
Dated 30 December 1842, when Brontë was twenty-two. First published in Poems (1846) with title “Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day.” Poem 21 in Chitham (1979).
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing,
The foam of its billows to wirl winds of spray,
I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing
And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!
A Brontë December 30th 1842
Comp Composed in the Long-Plantation on a wild bright windy day.
Text as published in Poems (1846)
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves, beneath them, are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray;
I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing,
And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!
| Attachment | Size |
|---|---|
| BronteMA28.pdf | 15.07 MB |