Branwell Brontë

Why dost thou sorrow for the happy dead? For if their life be lost their toils are o’er, And woe and want can trouble them… Read More »On Peaceful Death and Painful Life by Branwell Brontë

From Earth, –whose life-reviving April showers Hide winter’s withered grass ‘neath springtide flowers, And give, in each soft wind that drives the rain, Promise of… Read More »Letter from a Father on Earth to His Child in Her Grave by Branwell Brontë

Far off, and half revealed ‘mid shade and light, Blackcomb half smiles, half frowns; his mighty form Scarce blending into peace; –more formed to fight… Read More »Black Comb by Branwell Brontë

Brothers and men! One moment stayBeside your latest patriarch’s grave,While God’s just vengeance yet delay–While God’s blest mercy yet can save. Will you compel my… Read More »Noah’s Warning Over Methuselah’s Grave by Branwell Brontë

A drunk. A drug addict. A wasted talent. These are often the words used to describe Branwell Brontë. But did you know that Branwell was… Read More »Branwell Brontë: Published Poet