Edith Nesbit
(1858 - 1924)
Spring In War-Time
Now the sprinkled blackthorn snow
Lies along the lover’s lane
Where last year we used to go-
Where we shall not go again.
In the hedge the buds are new,
By our wood the violets peer-
Just like last year’s violets too,
But they have no scent this year.
Every bird has heart to sing
Of its nest, warmed by its breast;
We had heart to sing last spring,
But we never built our nest.
Presently red roses blown
Will make all the garden gay..
Not yet have the daisies grown
On your clay.
Edith Nesbit was an English author and poet. She wrote or
collaborated on over 60 books for children although she is probably best
remembered for her book The Railway Children which was published in 1906
under the name of E. Nesbit.
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Oh. Another one I have never heard of, but so heartfelt. Did she, perhaps, loose a husband, or a son?
ReplyDeleteNot sure on the background on the composition of this one, but I agree it is very poignant.
DeleteThanks for visiting Susan x