Poems (Rossetti, 1901)/"There is a budding Morrow in Midnight"
"THERE IS A BUDDING MORROW IN MIDNIGHT."
WINTRY boughs against a wintry sky;
Yet the sky is partly blue
And the clouds are partly bright:—
Who can tell but sap is mounting high
Out of sight,
Ready to burst through?
Yet the sky is partly blue
And the clouds are partly bright:—
Who can tell but sap is mounting high
Out of sight,
Ready to burst through?
Winter is the mother-nurse of Spring,
Lovely for her daughter's sake,
Not unlovely for her own:
For a future buds in everything;
Grown, or blown,
Or about to break.
Lovely for her daughter's sake,
Not unlovely for her own:
For a future buds in everything;
Grown, or blown,
Or about to break.