“A fine and subtle spirit dwells
In every little flower,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power.
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.”
“…It is the slight and stately stem
The blossom’s silvery blue
The buds hid like a sapphire gem
In sheaths of emerald hue.
‘Tis these that breathe upon my heart
A calm and softening spell
That if it makes the tear-drop start
Has power to soothe as well.”
“…But when I looked upon the bank
My wandering glances fell
Upon a little trembling flower,
A single sweet bluebell.
Whence came that rising in my throat
That dimness in my eye?
Why did those burning drops distill –
Those bitter feelings rise?”
“…If chilly when the light should fall
Adown the dreary sky
And gild the dank and darkened wall
With transient brilliancy.
How do I yearn, how do I pine
For the time of flowers to come
And turn me from that fading shine
To mourn the fields of home.”
Verses 1, 2, 5 and 6 are stanzas 1, 2, 7 and 8 respectively from Anne Brontë’s The Bluebell
Brontë, E. (Ed. Gezari, J.), The Complete Poems; Penguin Books (1992)
Verses 3, 4, 7 and 8 are stanzas 8, 9, 11 and 12 respectively from Emily Brontë’s The Blue Bell
Brontë, A. (Ed. Shorter, C.), The Complete Poems of Anne Brontë; Digireads.com Publishing (2012)
…& Kate Bush.