top of page

The heART of Ritual


Seasonal Poetry & Prose: 'Spellbound', by Emily Brontë

The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow. And the storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below; But nothing drear can move me; I will not, cannot go.

'Spellbound', by Emily Brontë (1818-1848) Artist Lauren Mills.


bottom of page