Emily Brontë werd geboren in Thornton in Yorkshire op 30 juli 1818. In 1821 verhuisde de familie naar Haworth waar haar vader dominee was. Hier bloeide het literaire talent van de drie zusters op. Als kind al creëerden zij imaginaire landen die voorkwamen in verhalen die zij schreven. Slechts weinig werk van Emily uit deze tijd is bewaard gebleven. Samen met Charlotte ging Emily naar school in Brussel. Emily Brontë schreef poëzie en een roman, Wuthering Heights uit 1847. Dit boek behoort tot de klassiekers van de Engelse literatuur. Uit: Wuthering Heights, laatste hoofdstuk: “… I distinguished Mr. Heathcliff’s step, restlessly measuring the floor, and he frequently broke the silence by a deep inspiration, resembling a groan. He muttered detached words also; the only one I could catch was the name of Catherine, coupled with some wild term of endearment or suffering; and spoken as one would speak to a person present; low and earnest, and wrung from the depth of his soul. I had not courage to walk straight into the apartment; but I desired to divert him from his reverie, and therefore fell foul of the kitchen fire, stirred it, and began to scrape the cinders. It drew him forth sooner than I expected. He opened the door immediately, and said – ‘Nelly, come here – is it morning? Come in with your light.’ Shall earth no more inspire thee,
‘It is striking four,’ I answered. ‘You want a candle to take up- stairs: you might have lit one at this fire.’
‘No, I don’t wish to go up-stairs,’ he said. ‘Come in, and kindle ME a fire, and do anything there is to do about the room.’
‘I must blow the coals red first, before I can carry any,’ I replied, getting a chair and the bellows
He roamed to and fro, meantime, in a state approaching distraction; his heavy sighs succeeding each other so thick as to leave no space for common breathing between.
‘When day breaks I’ll send for Green,’ he said; ‘I wish to make some legal inquiries of him while I can bestow a thought on those matters, and while I can act calmly. I have not written my will yet; and how to leave my property I cannot determine. I wish I could annihilate it from the face of the earth.’
‘I would not talk so, Mr. Heathcliff,’ I interposed. ‘Let your will be a while: you’ll be spared to repent of your many injustices yet! I never expected that your nerves would be disordered: they are, at present, marvellously so, however; and almost entirely through your own fault. The way you’ve passed these three last days might knock up a Titan. Do take some food, and some repose. You need only look at yourself in a glass to see how you require both. Your cheeks are hollow, and your eyes blood- shot, like a person starving with hunger and going blind with loss of sleep.’
‘It is not my fault that I cannot eat or rest,’ he replied. ‘I assure you it is through no settled designs. I’ll do both, as soon as I possibly can. But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water rest within arms’ length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I’ll rest. Well, never mind Mr. Green: as to repenting of my injustices, I’ve done no injustice, and I repent of nothing. I’m too happy; and yet I’m not happy enough. My soul’s bliss kills my body, but does not satisfy itself.’…”
Shall earth no more inspire thee
Thou lonely dreamer now?
Since passion may not fire thee,
Shall nature cease to bow?
Thy mind is ever moving,
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving,
Come back, and dwell with me.
I know my mountain breezes
Enchant and soothe thee still,
I know my sunshine pleases,
Despite thy wayward will.
When day with evening blending,
Sinks from the summer sky,
I’ve seen thy spirit bending
In fond idolatry.
I’ve watched thee every hour;
I know my mighty sway:
I know my magic power
To drive thy griefs away.
Few hearts to mortals given,
On earth so wildly pine;
Yet few would ask a heaven
More like this earth than thine.
Then let my winds caress thee
Thy comrade let me be:
Since nought beside can bless thee,
Return–and dwell with me.
