Poetic Interlude LXXXII

Gentle Reader – today’s the anniversary of my father’s death. All Soul’s Day, when we remember our beloved dead – fitting, is it not? I’ll be spending time with Maman, today, and when we go to dinner, I’ll order a brandy, up – my father’s signature drink, when he was out. It’s comprised of brandy, served straight, in its proper glass – the snifter. Somehow, no one can ever manage this – it became a family joke, for years and years.

At any rate, as is fitting for today, I grow introspective and glum this time of year. Today’s poem, Charlotte Brontë’s “On the Death of Anne Brontë”, feels massively appropriate. Enjoy.

On the Death of Anne Brontë
by Charlotte Brontë
There’s little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I’ve lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.
Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last;
Longing to see the shade of death
O’er those belovèd features cast.
The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently;
Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,
Must bear alone the weary strife.

About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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2 Responses to Poetic Interlude LXXXII

  1. Sina Mashek says:

    This is definitely a fitting poem. Thank you for sharing it!

    You and your Maman have mental hugs from me.

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