Emily+Bronte

**Photo credit: the brussels bronte group ** **Emily Brontë **was born on July 30th, 1818, in Thornton, England. She was the fifth of six children. She and her siblings were educated by their aunt, Elizabeth Branwell, when they were children. The three Brontë sisters wrote stories about their toy soldiers with the Duke of Wellington and his sons, Charles and Arthur. Emily and her sisters wrote stories about Gondal, an island in the north pacific, which were later found in Emily’s diaries. When she was 17, Emily attended Roe Head girls school, where her sister was a teacher. However, 3 months after she was there, she became extremely homesick so she returned home. When Emily was twenty, she began to teach. However, she had a stressing 17-hour a day work schedule, so she returned home to cook and clean while teaching Sunday School. In 1842, she and Charlotte went to Belgium to attend a girls academy to practice their French and German, in the hopes of one day opening their own school. The tried to open their school after the death of their aunt, but failed because they weren’t able to attract students to the area. 2 years later, Emily began to go through all of her poems and recopied them into notebooks. Her sister Charlotte discovered them a year later and insisted that they were published. Anne, Emily’s sister, had also written poems in secret and hoped to get hers published as well. A year later, the sisters published a book with their poems. However, it wasn’t proper for women to write at the time so they gave themselves male pen names. Emily’s was Ellis Bell. Her sister Charlottes most famous book, Wuthering Heights, was published in 1850. The book is still considered an extremely important piece of literature. Emily wasn’t a very healthy person and in 1848, and caught a cold at her brothers funeral. She wouldn’t accept any cure and would not have a doctor nurse her back to health. She died on December 19th of that year.

Fun Facts: She is referred to as a “Tormented Genius”. She and her sisters created Gondal. She was raised by a religious father and she and her sisters spent most of their time alone. Thus, she was a very lonely person. - Lindy W

Here is the poem “No coward soul is mine” by Emily No coward soul is mine No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I see Heaven's glories shine <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">0 God within my breast <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Almighty ever-present Deity <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Life, that in me hast rest <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">As I Undying Life, have power in Thee! <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Vain are the thousand creeds <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">That move men's hearts, unutterably vain, <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Worthless as withered weeds <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Or idlest froth amid the boundless main <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">To waken doubt in one <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Holding so fast by thy infinity <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">So surely anchored on <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">The steadfast rock of Immortality <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">With wide-embracing love <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Thy spirit animates eternal years <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Pervades and broods above, <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Though Earth and moon were gone <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">And suns and universes ceased to be <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">And thou wert left alone <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Every Existence would exist in thee <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">There is not room for Death <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Nor atom that his might could render void <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">Since thou art Being and Breath <span style="font-family: 'Agency FB','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">And what thou art may never be destroyed

How beautiful the Earth is still: 

 To thee–how full of Happiness; How little fraught with real ill Or shadowy phantoms of distress; How Spring can bring thee glory yet And Summer win thee to forget December's sullen time! Why dost thou hold the treasure fast Of youth's delight, when youth is past And thou art near thy prime? When those who were thy own compeers, Equal in fortunes and in years, Have seen their morning melt in tears, To dull unlovely day; Blest, had they died unproved and young Before their hearts were wildly wrung, Poor slaves, subdued by passions strong, A weak and helpless prey! "Because, I hoped while they enjoyed, And by fulfilment, hope destroyed As children hope, with trustful breast, I waited Bliss and cherished Rest. "A thoughtful Spirit taught me soon That we must long till life be done; That every phase of earthly joy Will always fade and always cloy-- "This I foresaw, and would not chase The fleeting treacheries, But with firm foot and tranquil face Held backward from the tempting race, Gazed o'er the sands the waves efface To the enduring seas– "There cast my anchor of Desire Deep in unknown Eternity; Nor ever let my Spirit tire With looking for What is to be. "It is Hope's spell that glorifies Like youth to my maturer eyes All Nature's million mysteries-- The fearful and the fair– "Hope soothes me in the griefs I know, She lulls my pain for others' woe And makes me strong to undergo What I am born to bear. "Glad comforter, will I not brave Unawed the darkness of the grave? Nay, smile to hear Death's billows rave, My Guide, sustained by thee? The more unjust seems present fate The more my Spirit springs elate Strong in thy strength, to anticipate Rewarding Destiny! ||
 * How beautiful the Earth is still