Though not a breath can enter here,
I know the wind blows fresh and free;
I know the sun is shining elear
Though not a gleam can visit me.
They thought while I in darkness lay
'Twere pity that I should not know
How all the earth is smiling gay,
How fresh the vernal breezes blow.
They knew such tidings to impart
Would pierce my weary spirit through;
And could they better read my heart,
They 'd tell me she was smiling too.
They need not, for I know it well,
Methinks I see her even now,
No sigh disturbs her bosom's swell,
No shade o'ercasts her angel brow.
Unmarred by grief her matchless voice,
Whence sparkling wit, and wisdom flow:
And others in its sound rejoice,
And taste the joys I must not know;
Drink rapture from her soft dark eye,
And sunshine from her heavenly smile;
On wings of bliss their moments fly
And I am pining here the while!
Oh! tell me, does she never give
To my distress a single sigh?
She smiles on them, but does she grieve
One moment, when they are not by?
When she beholds the sunny skies,
And feels the wind of heaven blow;
Has she no tear for him that lies
In dungeon-gloom so far below?
While others gladly round her press,
And at her side their hours beguile,
Has she no sigh for his distress,
Who cannot see a single smile,
Nor hear one word, nor read a line
That her belovèd hand might write;
Who banished from her face must pine,
Each day a long, a lonely night?
I am busy working to bring Anne Brontë's "The Dungeon" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Anne Brontë's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "The Dungeon" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.