Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay the sea,
My heart was not so heavy then
As it was wont to be.
But when I looked upon the bank
My wandering glances fell
Upon a little trembling flower,
A single sweet bluebell.
O, that lone flower recalled to me
My happy childhood’s hours
When bluebells seemed like fairy gifts
A prize among the flowers.
Taken from ’The Bluebell’ by Ann Bronte
Photo: Thorncombe Woods, Puddletown, Dorset, England.
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