The Seasons of Her Year
Read 'The Seasons of Her Year' by 'Thomas Hardy' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
The Seasons of Her Year by Thomas Hardy
I
Winter is white on turf and tree,
And birds are fled;
But summer songsters pipe to me,
And petals spread,
For what I dreamt of secretly
His lips have said!
II
O 'tis a fine May morn, they say,
And blooms have blown;
But wild and wintry is my day,
My birds make moan;
For he who vowed leaves me to pay
Alone--alone!
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
