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| From The Guardian |
"Signed C Brontë, and dated by her on 14 December 1829,
"I've been wandering in the greenwoods" is written on a piece of
paper measuring just three inches square, and is difficult to read without a
magnifying glass
[...]
The manuscript was sold by Bonhams as part of the collection
of the poet and scholar Roy Davids: it had been given an estimated sale price
of £40,000-£45,000, but went for more than double that, selling for £92,450.
The Brontë poem, said the auction house, is "extremely rare", because
although the author would go on to write around 200 poems, the "vast
majority" are in institutions, with "perhaps no more than four"
in private hands.
"I've been wandering in the greenwoods" is a
celebration of nature, with the precocious young poet elaborating on how she
has "been to the distant mountain,/ To the silver singing rill/ By the
crystal murmering mountain,/ And the shady verdant hill." It appeared in a
printed version in the literary magazine The Young Man's Intelligencer, which
was produced by the Brontë children for their own enjoyment. Charlotte took
over as editor from her brother Branwell in 1829."
This auction follows the sale of one of the famous little books to the Musée des Lettres et Manuscrits in 2011.
I've been wandering in the greenwoods by Charlotte Brontë
I've been wandering in the greenwoods
And mid flowery smiling plains
I've been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
And mid flowery smiling plains
I've been listening to the dark floods
To the thrushes thrilling strains
I have gathered the pale primrose
And the purple violet sweet
I've been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
And the purple violet sweet
I've been where the Asphodel grows
And where lives the red deer fleet.
I've been to the distant mountain,
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
To the silver singing rill
By the crystal murmering mountain,
And the shady verdant hill.
I've been where the poplar is springing
From the fair Inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.
From the fair Inamelled ground
Where the nightingale is singing
With a solemn plaintive sound.
