Life Is Lovely All The Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
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William Schwenck Gilbert
But These Things Also
But these things also are Spring's -
On banks by the roadside the grass
Long-dead that is greyer now
Than all the Winter it was;
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Edward Thomas
I am Winter, that do keep
Longing safe amidst of sleep:
Who shall say if I were dead
What should be remembered?
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William Morris
My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go;
But it is winter with your love,
The sashes are beset with snow.
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Edna St. Vincent Millay
Winter comes; and our complaints
Grow apace as summer faints,
Waning days grow dull and drear,
Something tells, too well, I fear,
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Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
The abode of the nightingale is bare,
Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,
The fox howls from his frozen lair:
Alas, my loved one is gone,
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Walter de la Mare
The Winter's Spring
The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
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John Clare
The Winter’s Spring
The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
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John Clare
Song (III)
The way of love was thus.
He was born one winter morn
With hands delicious,
And it was well with us.
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Rupert Brooke
Winter Garden
Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.

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Matsuo Basho
The Key-Note
Where are the songs I used to know,
Where are the notes I used to sing?
I have forgotten everything
I used to know so long ago;
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Christina Rossetti
Winter Solitude
Winter solitude--
in a world of one color
the sound of wind.

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Matsuo Basho
Up And-Down
The sun is gone down
And the moon's in the sky
But the sun will come up
And the moon be laid by.
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George MacDonald
A Masque Of The Seasons
Scene.--_A kitchen.--Group of Children, popping corn.--The Fairy Queen
of the Seasons discovered in the smoke of the corn-popper.--Waving her
wand, and, with eerie, sharp, imperious ejaculations, addressing the
bespelled auditors, who neither see nor hear her nor suspect her
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James Whitcomb Riley
After The Interval
About three months ago, when first
Upon our open, unprotected
And freezing garden snowstorms burst
In sudden fury, I reflected
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Boris Pasternak
Winter Milk
THE MILK drops on your chin, Helga,
Must not interfere with the cranberry red of your cheeks
Nor the sky winter blue of your eyes.
Let your mammy keep hands off the chin.
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Carl Sandburg
When The Winter Chrysanthemums Go
When the winter chrysanthemums go,
there's nothing to write about
but radishes.

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Matsuo Basho
First Winter Rain
First winter rain--
even the monkey
seems to want a raincoat.

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Matsuo Basho
Christmas Roses
White-faced Winter Roses,
O'er the grave I plant you
Where the dead reposes,
That a soul may haunt you,
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Francis William Bourdillon
May Morning
Deep into spring, winter is hanging on. Bitter and skillful in his hopelessness, he stays alive in every shady place, starving along the Mediterranean: angry to see the glittering sea-pale boulder alive with lizards green as Judas leaves. Winter is hanging on. He still believes. He tries to catch a lizard by the shoulder. One olive tree below Grottaglie welcomes the winter into noontime shade, and talks as softly as Pythagoras. Be still, be patient, I can hear him say, cradling in his arms the wounded head, letting the sunlight touch the savage face.

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James Arlington Wright

New Poems