Thomas Hardy

(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928 / Dorchester / England)

The Seasons of Her Year


I

Winter is white on turf and tree,
   And birds are fled;
But summer songsters pipe to me,
   And petals spread,
For what I dreamt of secretly
   His lips have said!

II

O 'tis a fine May morn, they say,
   And blooms have blown;
But wild and wintry is my day,
   My birds make moan;
For he who vowed leaves me to pay
   Alone--alone!

Submitted: Saturday, January 04, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: winter, summer, alone, tree, dream

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Seasons of Her Year by Thomas Hardy )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Edgar Allan Poe

Kind solace in a dying hour!
Such, father, is not (now) my theme-
I will not madly deem that power
Of Earth may shrive me of the sin
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jacques Prevert

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]