WHEN summer shone Its sweetest on An August day, "Here evermore," I said, "I'll stay; Not go away To another shore As fickle they!" December came: 'Twas not the same! I did not know Fidelity Would serve me so. Frost, hunger, snow; And now, ah me, Too late to go! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL by WILLIAM BLAKE JUNE (1) by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: THE FOUR WINDS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE FLIGHT OF THE GEESE by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS THERMOPYLAE by SIMONIDES OF CEOS DE RERUM NATURA: BOOK 3. AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH by TITUS LUCRETIUS CARUS |