Emily Jane Brontë died on this day in 1848. Today we’d love to remember her by reading some of her poems. As a matter of fact, her masterpiece Wuthering Heights is not Emily’s only legacy. Here are some of the most beautiful poems by Emily Brontë, and we can’t wait to share them with you on this special day.

Poems by Emily Brontë

Emily was a shy and discreet person. She loved her family and was particularly fond of her siblings, but she didn’t have any significant relationships outside the family cirle, not to mention the fact that her social life was pretty basic.
She had a peculiar sensitivity– she was a real free spirit- and she just loved being connected to the elements of nature. She used to love its most savage and wild aspects in particular. During her lonely walks on the moors, she would observe every detail. How do we know that? Thanks to her poems, which tell us a lot about her.

Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell

Thunders, wind and storms are often mentioned in her verses. Her poems were published, together with Charlotte’s and Anne’s, in 1846 by Aylott and Jones: the selection was called Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell. It was Charlotte who insisted and persuaded her sisters Emily and Anne to publish their poems, hiding their true identities under three pseudonyms. It was a failure. During the first year they only sold two copies.
Yet centuries later here we are and Emily Brontë is worldwide known as one of the greatest authors of all times.
We have selected three poems to read together with you.

The night is darkening round me

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow,
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me
I will not, cannot go.

I’m happiest when most away

I’m happiest when most away
I can bear my soul from its home of clay,
On a windy night when the moon is bright,
And my eye can wander through worlds of light-

When I am not and none beside,-
Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky-
But only spirit wandering wide
Through infinite immensity.

O evening, why is thy light so sad

O evening, why is thy light so sad?
Why is the sun’s last ray so cold?
Hush! our smile is as ever glad,
But my heart is growing old


Did you know we have written a book about Emily and her novel? It’s in Italian, but you can still read an excerpt in English in this article called: Our Book, E sognai di Cime Tempestose- Curiosities and an excerpt.