'Gone!
Gone till the end of the year,
Gone, and the light gone with her, and left me in shadow here!
Gone--flitted away,
Taken the stars from the night and the sun from the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart, and a storm in the air!
Flown to the east or the west, flitted I know not where!
Down in the south is a flash and a groan: she is there! she is
there!'
The winter comes, but our lover holds out in spite of the season:
'Bite, frost, bite!
You roll up away from the light
The blue woodlouse, and the plump dormouse,
And the bees are still'd and the flies are kill'd,
And you bite far into the heart of the house,
But not into mine.'
and it passes, and spring-time comes, with
'Birds' love and birds' song,
Flying here and there;
Birds' song and birds' love,
And you with gold for hair!
'Birds' song and birds' love
Passing with the weather;
Men's song and men's love,
To love once and for ever.'