TELL me, perverse young year! Why is the morn so drear? Is there no flower to twine? Away, thou churl, away! 'Tis Rose's natal day, Reserve thy frowns for mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE [FOR MUSIC] ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY by ALEXANDER POPE ODES I, 5 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS A CHRISTMAS FOLK-SONG by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE THE FLYING DUTCHMAN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON HERTHA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE BOY BRITTAN [FEBRUARY 8, 1862] by BYRON FORCEYTHE WILLSON |