Poems (Rossetti, 1901)/Tempus fugit
TEMPUS FUGIT.
LOVELY Spring, A brief sweet thing, Is swift on the wing; Gracious Summer, A slow sweet comer, Hastens past; Autumn while sweet Is all incomplete With a moaning blast,—Nothing can last, Can be cleaved unto, Can be dwelt upon; It is hurried through, It is come and gone, Undone it cannot be done, It is ever to do, Ever old, ever new, Ever waxing old And lapsing to Winter cold.