She dens in a garret As void as a drum; In lieu of plum-pudding -- She paints the plum! No use in my grieving, The shops I must suit: Broken hearts are but potsherds -- Paint flowers and fruit! How whistles her garret, A seine for the snows: She hums Si fortuna, And -- paints the rose! December is howling, But feign it a flute: Help on the deceiving -- Paint flowers and fruit! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAY AND DEATH by ROBERT BROWNING MOTLEY: MUSIC by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE UNSUNG HEROES by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE JACQUERIE: SONG. THE HOUND by SIDNEY LANIER THE LEADEN-EYED by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY |