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A Reminiscence

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YES, thou art gone! and never more
Thy sunny smile shall gladden me;
But I may pass the old church door,
And pace the floor that covers thee.

May stand upon the cold, damp stone,
And think that, frozen, lies below
The lightest heart that I have known,
The kindest I shall ever know.

Yet, though I cannot see thee more,
'Tis still a comfort to have seen;
And though thy transient life is o'er,
'Tis sweet to think that thou hast been;

To think a soul so near divine,
Within a form so angel fair,
United to a heart like thine,
Has gladdened once our humble sphere.



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A Reminiscence

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  • In Conversations in Ebury Street (1924), George Moore declared that "if Anne Brontë had lived ten years longer, she would have taken a place beside Jane Austen, perhaps even a higher place"; in addition, he described her first novel, Agnes Grey (1847), as "the most perfect prose narrative in English literature."

    If Moore's estimation of Brontë's work and potential was somewhat inflated, his claims for her served as an overdue and refreshing corrective to the trend—long established by biographers and critics—of either damning her with faint praise or making her the subject of frankly disparaging remarks. Typical of the latter were May Sinclair's dismissal of her as "the weak and ineffectual Anne" and George Saintsbury's pronouncement that "the third sister Anne is but a pale reflection of her elders." The cumulative effect made Brontë appear a nebulous figure in the history of English letters; and led to the...

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