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Oct. 15th, 2017


[info]sonataind

[public]

Poetry again today.


Oh, I am very weary,
Though tears no longer flow;
My eyes are tired of weeping,
My heart is sick of woe;

My life is very lonely,
My days pass heavily,
I’m weary of repining;
Wilt thou not come to me?

Oh, didst thou know my longings
For thee, from day to day,
My hopes, so often blighted,
Thou wouldst not thus delay!

Appeal
Anne Brontë, 1820 - 1849