“Spellbound” by Emilie Bronte

A poem by the great Ms. Bronte herself. This one is short and simple after the 2,000+ line Tennyson work posted recently. Grappling with feelings of impending doom, but without defining what the “tyrant’s spell” is or why the author “cannot go” makes this ambiguous enough to be relatable to almost anyone in some way. The use of nature to set the tone for imminent catastrophe or, as some critics think, to represent the struggle between life and death is visceral, yet concise. When the body of nature itself is affected by an ambiguous force, what chance do mere mortals stand?