It was not in the Winter <br />Our loving lot was cast; <br />It was the Time of Roses,— <br />We plucked them as we passed! <br />That churlish season never frown'd <br />On early lovers yet:— <br />Oh, no—the world was newly crown'd <br />With flowers when first we met! <br />'Twas twilight, and I bade you go, <br />But still you held me fast; <br />It was the Time of Roses,— <br />We pluck'd them as we pass'd.— <br />What else could peer thy glowing cheek, <br />That tears began to stud? <br />And when I ask'd the like of Love, <br />You snatched a damask bud; <br />And oped it to the dainty core, <br />Still glowing to the last.— <br />It was the Time of Roses,— <br />We plucked them as we pass'd!<br /><br />Thomas Hood<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-was-not-in-the-winter/
