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"I loved you when love was Spring, and May, Loved you when summer deepened into June, and now when autumn yellows all the leaves..."  |
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"One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese, cleaving the murk of March thaw, is the Spring." |
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"A bird sang sweet and strongIn the top of the highest tree,He said, "I pour out my heart in songFor the summer that soon shall be."But deep in the shady wood,Another bird sang, "I pourMy heart on the solemn solitudeFor the springs that return no more."" |
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