POEMS

by

CURRER, ELLIS, AND ACTON BELL.
(Charlotte, Emily and Anne Bronte)




POEMS BY CURRER BELL,




PILATE'S WIFE'S DREAM.

I've quench'd my lamp, I struck it in that start
Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall--
The crash blent with my sleep, I saw depart
Its light, even as I woke, on yonder wall;
Over against my bed, there shone a gleam
Strange, faint, and mingling also with my dream.

It sank, and I am wrapt in utter gloom;
How far is night advanced, and when will day
Retinge the dusk and livid air with bloom,
And fill this void with warm, creative ray?
Would I could sleep again till, clear and red,
Morning shall on the mountain-tops be spread!