Christina Georgina Rossetti

Here you will find the Poem Summer Is Ended of poet Christina Georgina Rossetti

Summer Is Ended

To think that this meaningless thing was ever a rose, 
Scentless, colourless, this! 
Will it ever be thus (who knows?) 
Thus with our bliss, 
If we wait till the close? 

Though we care not to wait for the end, there comes the end 
Sooner, later, at last, 
Which nothing can mar, nothing mend: 
An end locked fast, 
Bent we cannot re-bend.