Once more the changed year's turning wheel returns: <br />And as a girl sails balanced in the wind, <br />And now before and now again behind <br />Stoops as it swoops, with cheek that laughs and burns,— <br />So Spring comes merry towards me here, but earns <br />No answering smile from me, whose life is twin'd <br />With the dead boughs that winter still must bind, <br />And whom to-day the Spring no more concerns. <br />Behold, this crocus is a withering flame; <br />This snowdrop, snow; this apple-blossom's part <br />To breed the fruit that breeds the serpent's art. <br />Nay, for these Spring-flowers, turn thy face from them, <br />Nor stay till on the year's last lily-stem <br />The white cup shrivels round the golden heart.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lxxxiii-barren-spring/
