Goblin Market, and other poems, by Christina Rossetti

Bitter for Sweet

Summer is gone with all its roses,

    Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,

    Its warm air and refreshing showers:

        And even Autumn closes.

Yea, Autumn’s chilly self is going,

    And winter comes which is yet colder;

    Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,

        And the last buds cease blowing.

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Last updated Thursday, March 6, 2014 at 15:33