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Bitter For Sweet
Summer is gone with all its roses,
Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers, Its warm air and refreshing showers: And even Autumn closes. Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,
And winter comes which is yet colder; Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder, And the last buds cease blowing.
Poetry of Christina Rossetti - Complete TextPoetry of Christina Rossetti E-Text contains the full text of Poetry of Christina Rossetti
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