Thursday, 30 September 2021

Hill Top, Haworth Moor, Brontë Country


"There is a spot 'mid barren hills
Where winter howls and driving rain
But if the dreary tempest chills
There is a light that warms again

The house is old, the trees are bare
And moonless bends the misty dome
But what on earth is half so dear - 
So longed for as the hearth of home?

The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
the garden-walk with weeds o'ergrown
I love them - how I love them all!" 

~ Emily Brontë, "A Little While" ~



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