The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.

Maidens hearts are always soft: Would that men's were truer!

Thou unrelenting Past! Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain, And fetters, sure and fast, Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.

Roses are shining in Picardy In the hush of the silver dew; Roses are flowering in Picardy But there's never a rose like you. And the roses will die with the s…

When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow park we saw a few daffodils close to the water side:At last under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a l…

Fair daffadills, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early rising sun Has not attained his noon.