FAIR was the flower which proffers now its fruit; The bud began to swell 'neath Spring's soft dew, And tenderly the winds of summer blew To foster it; and great strong suns were mute, As through its veins warm life began to shoot, And it put on each day some beauty new. And all the fairer, as I think, it grew, Because the streams were tears about its root. But now our fruit hangs well within our reach, And this indeed is time for gathering. It hath the bloom of summer-tinted peach, Each charm it hath that any man could sing; Yet we, who taste it, whisper each to each, "Not sweet, but very bitter, is this thing!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE'D BE NOTHING BUT HIS VIOLIN by MARY KYLE DALLAS BETSY'S BATTLE FLAG by MINNA IRVING THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 98. HE AND I by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SYSTEM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 115 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE WHITE CHARGER by ABUS SALT CHRISTMASSE DAY by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |