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 I see Heaven's glories shine And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear 0 God within my breast Almighty ever-present Deity Life, that in me hast rest As I Undying Life, have power in Thee! Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain, Worthless as withered weeds Or idlest froth amid the boundless main To waken doubt in one Holding so fast by thy infinity So surely anchored on The steadfast rock of Immortality With wide-embracing love Thy spirit animates eternal years Pervades and broods above, Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears Though Earth and moon were gone And suns and universes ceased to be And thou wert left alone Every Existence would exist in thee There is not room for Death Nor atom that his might could render void Since thou art Being and Breath And what thou art may never be destroyed
How beautiful the Earth is still:
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!
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
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
0 God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee!
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
Though Earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee
There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
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!