Poems By Mary Elizabeth Coleridge |
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| LXVIII. | LXVIIIFEBRUARY, 1900 |
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 | Poems |  |
LXVIII
FEBRUARY, 1900
Spring and the flowers return. The world is gay,
Once more the old sun on the ancient earth
Shines forth and brings a million buds to birth.
Where are those sons of ours we sent away?
Spring and the flowers return—but where are they?
Once more the old sun on the ancient earth
Shines forth and brings a million buds to birth.
Where are those sons of ours we sent away?
Spring and the flowers return—but where are they?
Tarry, hard Winter, ice-bound, stiff, and gray,
Thou art as we are, full of darkest fears,
Weep with us—let us feel thy chilly tears!
We are not fit for joy. We can but say,
“Spring and the flowers return—but where are they?”
Thou art as we are, full of darkest fears,
Weep with us—let us feel thy chilly tears!
We are not fit for joy. We can but say,
“Spring and the flowers return—but where are they?”
| Poems | |