Time Of Roses

It was not in the Winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses-
We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

That churlish season never frown'd
On early lovers yet:
O no-the world was newly crown'd
With flowers when first we met!

'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
But still you held me fast;
It was the time of roses-
We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

Thomas Hood The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.