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|Winter Foxes, Haworth Parsonage (2012)|
by Amanda White (Source)
There is a spot, mid barren hills,And yet that Christmas also saw the end of the Brontë governesses. By the next Christmas, the girls would be published authors, their writing careers launched (The Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell was published in 1846), their names--even if still hidden behind pseudonyms--never to be forgotten.
Where winter howls, and driving rain
But if the dreary tempest chills,
There is a light that warms again.
The house is old, the trees are bare,
Moonless above bends twilight's dome
But what on earth is half so dear,
So longed for, as the hearth of home?