A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily. My garden-plot I have not kept; Faded and all-forsaken, I weep as I have never wept: Oh it was summer when I slept, It's winter now I waken. Talk what you please of future spring And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow: -- Stripp'd bare of hope and everything, No more to laugh, no more to sing, I sit alone with sorrow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A BURYING GROUND by SARA TEASDALE THE FAIRY CHILD by JOHN ANSTER CAVALIER TUNES: BOOT AND SADDLE by ROBERT BROWNING THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND [NOVEMBER 19, 1620] by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS TO DOCTOR EMPIRIC by BEN JONSON ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF AN UNFORTUNATE LADY by ALEXANDER POPE SOLDIER: TWENTIETH CENTURY by ISAAC ROSENBERG |