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Poem by Emily Jane Brontë


Love and Friendship


Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?

The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?

Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green. 



Emily Jane Brontë


Emily Jane Brontë's other poems:
  1. Self-Interrogation
  2. Honour's Martyr
  3. The Wanderer from the Fold
  4. The Philosopher
  5. Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place


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