If I might see another Spring I’d not plant summer flowers and w… I’d have my crocuses at once My leafless pink mezereons, My chill—veined snow—drops, choice…

Why were you born when the snow wa… You should have come to the cuckoo… Or when grapes are green in the cl… Or, at least, when lithe swallows… For their far off flying

I watched a rosebud very long Brought on by dew and sun and show… Waiting to see the perfect flower: Then, when I thought it should be… It opened at the matin hour

Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast,

Downstairs I laugh, I sport and j… But in my solitary room above I turn my face in silence to the w… My heart is breaking for a little… Though winter frosts are done,

A blue—eyed phantom far before Is laughing, leaping toward the su… Like lead I chase it evermore, I pant and run. It breaks the sunlight bound on bo…

Mother shake the cherry—tree, Susan catch a cherry; Oh how funny that will be, Let’s be merry! One for brother, one for sister,

Oh the rose of keenest thorn! One hidden summer morn Under the rose I was born. I do not guess his name Who wrought my Mother’s shame,

Before the winter morn, Before the earliest cock crow, Jesus Christ was born: Born in a stable, Cradled in a manger,

“Too late for love, too late for j… Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch

Did any bird come flying After Adam and Eve, When the door was shut against the… And they sat down to grieve? I think not Eve’s peacock

The dear old woman in the lane Is sick and sore with pains and ac… We’ll go to her this afternoon, And take her tea and eggs and cake… We’ll stop to make the kettle boil…

Two days ago with dancing glancing… With living lips and eyes: Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies; So pale, yet still so fair. We have not left her yet, not yet…

Life is not sweet. One day it wil… To shut our eyes and die: Nor feel the wild flowers blow, no… With flitting butterfly, Nor grass grow long above our head…

Baby cry — Oh fie! — At the physic in the cup: Gulp it twice And gulp it thrice,