Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SPRING OF THE YEAR, by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM



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THE SPRING OF THE YEAR, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Gone were but the winter cold
Last Line: At the spring of the year.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


GONE were but the winter cold,
And gone were but the snow,
I could sleep in the wild woods
Where primroses blow.

Cold 's the snow at my head,
And cold at my feet;
And the finger of death 's at my e'en,
Closing them to sleep.

Let none tell my father
Or my mother so dear, --
I'll meet them both in heaven
At the spring of the year.





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