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Christina Georgina Rossetti - Three Seasons
Work rating: Low

`A cup for hope!` she said,
In springtime ere the bloom was old:
The crimson wine was poor and cold
  By her mouth`s richer red.


  `A cup for love!` how low,
How soft the words; and all the while
Her blush was rippling with a smile
  Like summer after snow.


  `A cup for memory!`
Cold cup that one must drain alone: 
While autumn winds are up and moan
  Across the barren sea.


  Hope, memory, love:
Hope for fair morn, and love for day,
And memory for the evening grey
  And solitary dove.
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