Written at the close of Spring. <br /> <br />THE garlands fade that Spring so lately wove, <br />Each simple flower, which she had nursed in dew, <br />Anemonies, that spangled every grove, <br />The primrose wan, and hare-bell mildly blue. <br />No more shall violets linger in the dell, <br />Or purple orchis variegate the plain, <br />Till Spring again shall call forth every bell, <br />And dress with humid hands her wreaths again.- <br />Ah! poor humanity! so frail, so fair, <br />Are the fond visions of thy early day, <br />Till tyrant passion and corrosive care <br />Bid all thy fairy colours fade away! <br />Another May new buds and flowers shall bring; <br />Ah! why has happiness-no second spring?<br /><br />Charlotte Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-ii-18/
