After Milady Parody Edna St Vincent Millay I Am But Summer Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Although harsh winter weighs down restless heart,
I know I'm not but cusp, husk for full year.
Warm welcome will expand, dwarf other part,
swing brooding moods to mine shared joys sincere.
No harvest rich with golden fruits to sell
need I, nor wise saws winter hoarfrost bring,
who loves well Hell defies, time's ebb and swell
weathered, all storms calmed, splices angel wing.
Love therefore says: O time suspend thy flows!
range changeless and defy fate's hidden drums,
so two true steady stay, thorn shorn from rose,
no far migration, ceaseless summer comes.
No pause, no cause to seek another clime
eternal summer gilding timeless rhyme.

I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of Spring.
Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Else will you seek, at some not distant time,
Even your summer in another clime.