One day, in the autumn of 1845, I accidentally lighted
on a MS volume of verse in my sister Emily's
handwriting... I looked it over, and something more
than surprise seized me, a deep conviction that these
were not common effusions, nor at all like the poetry
women generally write. I thought them condensed and
terse, vigorous and genuine. To my ear, they had also
a peculiar music--wild, melancholy, and elevating.
Charlotte Bronte, 1850
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