A new home, a parish
New life, for the curate
His wife and six children
As the laden cart stopped at Haworth
And the church bells sounded
And they walked
Into solitude, sickness, the consumption
Mother now lost; an aunt, and father, to carry on
As the church bells sounded
And they walked
To school, to Cowan Bridge, so tragic, so harsh for children's souls
And four now left to their own fantasies
To Angria, Gondall and Gaaldine
To dreams, writing, an escape to their little books
And the years passed
And the church bells sounded
And they walked
Each evening, around that table, in rhythm, "making out"
their stories
And hid their talent from one
Who failed to prove them proud and chose the bottle
And dear father in his study with his tea and self-indulgence
Unaware a new day had come for Currer, Ellis and Acton
An escape from their wretched bondage
New hopes and success
For our Charlotte, Emily and Anne
And as the church bells sounded
Over their beloved moors, of heather, moss and grass
Three would suddenly leave her
To face her final days
With Arthur, father and memories
Of how it used to be
And the world would know their stories
Of how they'd walked
Toward their own achievements
Since the cart that stopped at Haworth
When the church bells sounded

 poem written by Barbara J. Tanke 2/99


Charlotte | Emily | Anne | Branwell | Bronte Family | England

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