MY heart hath its Springtime, yea, Its thrill of primal happiness, Its swift, keen days of gold and gray, Its crescent moon of promises. My heart hath had its Winter, O The barren land, the empty ways, The awful silence of the snow Through the untrodden nights and days! Alas, my heart that might not know The sweet, deep peace of Summer's prime! Only for you the crushing snow And Spring's unrest in blossom time. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ENGLISH MOTHER by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON THE GRANDMOTHER'S APOLOGY by ALFRED TENNYSON |