by Emily Brontë (1818 - 1848)
Come hither child who gifted thee
Language: English
Come hither child who gifted thee With power to touch that string so well How dare you wake thoughts in me Thoughts that I would but cannot quell ? ... But thus it was - one festal night When I was hardly six years old I stole away from crowds and light and sought a chamber dark and cold I had no one to love me there I knew no comrade and no friend And so I went to sorrow where Heaven only heaven saw me wend Loud blew the wind twas sad to stay From all that splendour barred away I imaged in the lonely room A thousand forms of fearful gloom And with my wet eye raised on high I prayed to God that I might die Suddenly in that silence drear A sound of music reached my ear And then a note I hear it yet So full of soul so deeply sweet I thought that Gabriel's self had come To take me to my fathers home Three times it rose that seraph strain Then died nor lived ever again But still the words and still the tone Swell round my heart when all alone
About the headline (FAQ)
View text with all available footnotesNote: in the Fisk work, this is sung by Heathcliff
Authorship:
- by Emily Brontë (1818 - 1848) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Terry Fisk , "Come hither child who gifted thee", published 2002 [voice, piano], from Wuthering Heights, no. 36. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Terry Fisk
This text was added to the website: 2004-03-22
Line count: 29
Word count: 198