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Poems by Christina G. Rossetti

«·THE LOWEST PLACE. · THE MONTHS: A PAGEANT.·»

THE KEY-NOTE.

Where are the songs I used to know,
  Where are the notes I used to sing?
  I have forgotten everything
I used to know so long ago;
Summer has followed after Spring;
  Now Autumn is so shrunk and sere,
I scarcely think a sadder thing
  Can be the Winter of my year.

Yet Robin sings through Winter’s rest,
  When bushes put their berries on;
  While they their ruddy jewels don,
He sings out of a ruddy breast;
The hips and haws and ruddy breast
  Make one spot warm where snowflakes lie
They break and cheer the unlovely rest
  Of Winter’s pause—and why not I?

 


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