Hope Comments
Hope was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.
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She would sing whe I would be crying... sadistic pleasure! !
She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven, Went, and ne'er returned again!
She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. Can closely associate with these lines. Indeed hope is a jolly pal for an aching soul. she would balm with kindness, enlightening our souls.
She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. Can closely associate with these lines... indeed hope is a timid friend. She whispers light when in doom, balms with sunshine and wishful dreams. Beautiful poem! !
...she whispered peace. Nice poem! Well communicated. Sylva
Hope is indeed a friend who never leaves us whatever be the situation is.
A unique experience of a poetry here I enjoyed. Great.
Emily's lyricism is unique: simplistically fascinating. Hope dissected through vivid, agonizing and breathtaking pictures. So young yet so pensive!
Miss Emily Bronte has once again touched my heart with her self-forgetting use of spellbinding english. Hope which sometimes seems not present has indeed been given an excuse for. Hope's charactor so complex by itself has been potrayed by Miss Bronte in simplicity and wit.
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7/27/2025 9:31:57 PM # 1.0.0
In a nutshell this poem epitomises how fate has dealt Emily Bronte a cruel hand ✋.