Go Winter!

Go, Winter! Go thy ways! We want again The twitter of the bluebird and the wren; Leaves ever greener growing, and the shine Of Summer's sun--not thine.-- Thy sun, which mocks our need of warmth and love And all the heartening fervencies thereof, It scarce hath heat enow to warm our thin Pathetic yearnings in. So get thee from us! We are cold, God wot, Even as _thou_ art.--We remember not How blithe we hailed thy coming.--That was O Too long--too long ago! Get from us utterly! Ho! Summer then Shall spread her grasses where thy snows have been, And thy last icy footprint melt and mold In her first marigold.