It was not in the Winter
...Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses--
...We pluck'd them as we pass'd!
That churlish season never frown'd
...On early lovers yet:
O no--the world was newly crown'd
...With flowers when first we met!
'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
...But still you held me fast;
It was the time of roses--
...We pluck'd them as we pass'd!
Thomas Hood
