Branwell Brontë’s “Thorpe Green”

For no particular reason, but...
Because a beautiful poem such as this deserves to be read, understood and appreciated.
Because Branwell Brontë deserves to be read, understood and appreciated.
Because this poem had no place and it deserves much better.
Because Branwell Brontë deserves his due.

Thorpe Green
I sit, this evening, far away
From all I used to know,
And nought reminds my soul today
Of happy long ago.

Unwelcome cares, unthought-of fears
Around my room arise;
I seek for suns of former years,
But clouds o’ercast my skies.

Yes–Memory, wherefore does thy voice
Bring back old times to view,
As thou would bid me not rejoice
In thoughts and prospects new?

I’ll thank thee, Memory, in the hour
When troubled thoughts are mine—
For thou, like sun’s in April’s shower,
On shadowy scenes will shine.

I’ll thank thee when approaching death
Would quench life’s feeble ember,
For thou wouldst even renew my breath
With thy sweet word “Remember!”

Patrick Branwell Brontë
March 30th 1843, Thorpe Green

And Branwell Brontë is slowly getting his due. As more and more people come to know and touch his tortured genius through his words. Across the ages, you empathise. A broken man, a man who lived not up to his potential or his dreams. And he came to know that. Perhaps it was a sign of this perception that he should choose paint himself over in the portrait that he painted of his illustrious sisters. See this famous painting of the Brontë sisters? It was painted by Branwell.

See that patch of paint in the painting? That is Branwell painting over what would have been his self-portrait. Erasing himself. But they say the paint is peeling over, and soon maybe the world will see Branwell again. Just one layer of paint. It is a good sign perhaps, that this silent, self-effacing soul will once again see the light of day. If only through his beautiful words.