I WINTER is white on turf and tree, And birds are fled; But summer songsters pipe to me, And petals spread, For what I dreamt of secretly His lips have said! II O 'tis a fine May morn, they say, And blooms have blown; But wild and wintry is my day, My song-birds moan; For he who vowed leaves me to pay Alone - alone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FONTENOY, 1745: 2. AFTER THE BATTLE, EARLY DAWN, CLARE COAST by EMILY LAWLESS IMMORTALIA NE SPERES by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE A PUBLIC DANCE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS DIRGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE TULIP AND THE LILY, SELECTION by JAMES BARCLAY LILIES: 2. MY SWORD by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |