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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529766" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>It Was Not In The Winter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529766" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It was not in the Winter <br>Our loving lot was cast; <br>It was the Time of Roses,— <br>We plucked them as we passed! <br>That churlish season never frown'd <br>On early lovers yet:— <br>Oh, no—the world was newly crown'd <br>With flowers when first we met! <br>'Twas twilight, and I bade you go, <br>But still you held me fast; <br>It was the Time of Roses,— <br>We pluck'd them as we pass'd.— <br>What else could peer thy glowing cheek, <br>That tears began to stud? <br>And when I ask'd the like of Love, <br>You snatched a damask bud; <br>And oped it to the dainty core, <br>Still glowing to the last.— <br>It was the Time of Roses,— <br>We plucked them as we pass'd!</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+Hood">Thomas Hood</a></strong></div>