'A cup for hope!' she said, <br />In springtime ere the bloom was old: <br />The crimson wine was poor and cold <br />By her mouth's richer red. <br /> <br /> <br />'A cup for love!' how low, <br />How soft the words; and all the while <br />Her blush was rippling with a smile <br />Like summer after snow. <br /> <br /> <br />'A cup for memory!' <br />Cold cup that one must drain alone: <br />While autumn winds are up and moan <br />Across the barren sea. <br /> <br /> <br />Hope, memory, love: <br />Hope for fair morn, and love for day, <br />And memory for the evening grey <br />And solitary dove.<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/three-seasons/
