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,
Yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond
wastes below,
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.
by
Emily Brontë (1818-1848)
This poem is so old that it is in the
public domain. When I saw that it was not represented here, I was stunned. I love this poem because it reminds me that nature is a sort of spell all by itself. No wonder there are so many
earth-based religions.