IT was not in the Winter   Our loving lot was cast; It was the time of roses—   We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

That churlish season never frown'd   On early lovers yet: O no—the world was newly crown'd   With flowers when first we met!

'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,   But still you held me fast; It was the time of roses—   We pluck'd them as we pass'd!