(14 March 1844 – 30 January 1881 / London)

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Summer Has Come Without the Rose

Has summer come without the rose,
Or left the bird behind?
Is the blue changed above thee,
O world! or am I blind?
Will you change every flower that grows,
Or only change this spot,
Where she who said, I love thee,
Now says, I love thee not?

The skies seemed true above thee,
The rose true on the tree;
The bird seemed true the summer through,
But all proved false to me.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: change, summer, rose, flower, tree, world, love, sky

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