MY heart hath its Springtime, yea, Its thrill of primal happiness, Its swift, keen days of gold and gray, Its crescent moon of promises. My heart hath had its Winter, O The barren land, the empty ways, The awful silence of the snow Through the untrodden nights and days! Alas, my heart that might not know The sweet, deep peace of Summer's prime! Only for you the crushing snow And Spring's unrest in blossom time. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A GREEK VASE by FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN THE POET'S SPEAR by ARCHILOCHUS THE SPIRIT IS TRUE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 3 by THOMAS CAMPION SONG: CELIA SINGING by THOMAS CAREW TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. YORK MINISTER by EDWARD CARPENTER |