What's in a Name?
Christina Rossetti
1830 to 1894
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Why has Spring one syllable less
Than any its season?
There may be some other reason,
And I'm making a guess;
But surely it hoards such wealth
happiness, hope and health,
Sunshine and musical sound,
It spare a foot from its name
Yet all the
Superabound.
Soft-named Summer,
Most welcome comer,
Brings almost everything
which we dream or sing
Or sigh;
But then wends its way,
To-morrow,--to-day,--
Good-bye!
Autumn,--the name lingers,
While we likewise flag;
It silences many singers;
Its slow days drag,
Yet hasten at speed
To us in chilly need
For Winter to strip indeed.
all-lack Winter,
Dull of sense and of sound,
We and shiver
Beside our splinter
Of crackling pine,
Snow sky and snow on ground.
Winter and cold
Can't for ever!
To-day, to-morrow, the sun will shine;
When are old,
But some still are young,
Singing the
Which others have sung,
Ringing the bells
Which others rung,--
Even so!
We ourselves, who else?
We long
Long ago.