Ballad (It was not in the winter)
by Thomas Hood
It was not in the winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses, --
We plucked them as we passed!
That churlish season never frowned
On early lovers yet!
O, no -- the world was newly crowned
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 plucked them as we passed!
Source:
The Poetical Works Of Thomas HoodCopyright 1861
Boston: Crosby, Nichols, Lee and Company