A Poetry Reading

Poetry readings seem to be a lost art, although I know they do happen at bookstores and coffee shops, which is great. The kind of poetry reading I am thinking of is the kind where Anne Shirley recites, "The Highwayman." Everybody dresses up in their finest and it's like attending the theater or opera. Lydia from "Pride and Prejudice," "longs for a ball." I long for a poetry reading.


Here is a poem by Branwell Bronte called "Thorp Green." I have read through it, and am still deciding if I like it or not. I chose this poem because I want to know more about Branwell and his writings, since he is often overlooked. Imagine, if you will, Anne reciting this.
Thorp Green

I SIT, this evening, far away,
From all I used to know,
And nought reminds my soul to-day
Of happy long ago.

Unwelcome cares, unthought-of fears,
Around my room arise;
I seek for suns of former years
But clouds o'ercast my skies.

Yes--Memory, wherefore does thy voice
Bring old times back to view,
As thou wouldst bid me not rejoice
In thoughts and prospects new?

I'll thank thee, Memory, in the hour
When troubled thoughts are mine--
For thou, like suns in April's shower,
On shadowy scenes wilt shine.

I'll thank thee when approaching death
Would quench life's feeble ember,
For thou wouldst even renew my breath
With thy sweet word 'Remember'!

Branwell Brontë