Why were you born when the snow was falling? You should have come to the cuckoo's calling, Or when grapes are green in the cluster, Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster For their far off flying From summer dying. Why did you die when the lambs were cropping? You should have died at the apples' dropping, When the grasshopper comes to trouble, And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble, And all winds go sighing For sweet things dying. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION IN THESE DAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPRING NOTES FROM ROBIN HILL by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO A FRIEND I CAN'T FIND by JAMES GALVIN CURTAIN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ECSTASY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO SAMUEL COLERIDGE UPON HEARING HIS 'SOME I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS..' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |