Feelings may change as time passes. This is what Charlotte Brontë (1816 – 1855) wrote about in her poem Evening solace.
The message that Brontë brings forward is that time will change feelings. Whether it is the loss of someone you love or another feeling of sadness. The pain will be lessened when time passes. It is all based on the memories of those moments of pain. In a way, they will fade. Still, there are moments when the pain is intense. These moments are the evenings that Brontë describes in her poem Evening solace.
This poem is a message for all, who suffer pain and grief. Better times will arrive. It is also a warning, to take the lessening of this pain not to strict. There are moments when this pain is felt in the same way as before. Then it is difficult to control these emotions and according to Brontë, this is fine. We need to realise that some events in our lives are too important for us to neglect. Pain and grief are important events. They form us, they sharpen us and make us aware of the fact we are all humans.
Brontë also points to the fact that some emotions or feelings are worth to let go. Not to dwell on the past, but look ahead. Times will change, goodness even greatness will come. Unfortunately, there is no way of knowing when this moment arrives. The poem reads as if Brontë just wants to move forward in time to that moment. That moment, when night falls and the worry and pain are gone.
The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;—
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame’s or Wealth’s illusion,
The memory of the Past may die.
But there are hours of lonely musing,
Such as in evening silence come,
When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
The heart’s best feelings gather home.
Then in our souls there seems to languish
A tender grief that is not woe;
And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish
Now cause but some mild tears to flow.
And feelings, once as strong as passions,
Float softly back—a faded dream;
Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
The tale of others’ sufferings seem.
Oh! when the heart is freshly bleeding,
How longs it for that time to be,
When, through the mist of years receding,
Its woes but live in reverie!
And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,
On evening shade and loneliness;
And, while the sky grows dim and dimmer,
Feel no untold and strange distress—
Only a deeper impulse given
By lonely hour and darkened room,
To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven
Seeking a life and world to come.
— Charlotte Brontë