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Sunday, July 30, 2017

'tis a strange time, indeed

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; 
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. 

Emily Brontë.


July 30, 2017 | Permalink


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