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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Seasons of Her Year</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Winter is white on turf and tree, <br>   And birds are fled; <br>But summer songsters pipe to me, <br>   And petals spread, <br>For what I dreamt of secretly <br>   His lips have said! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">II </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O 'tis a fine May morn, they say, <br>   And blooms have blown; <br>But wild and wintry is my day, <br>   My birds make moan; <br>For he who vowed leaves me to pay <br>   Alone--alone!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Thomas+Hardy">Thomas Hardy</a></strong></div>

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