My Love is Dead
Philip Bourke Marston
1850 to 1887
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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'Tis Spring, the fresh green glints in the brook,
Let it be Autumn, my love is dead!
The primrose laughs from its shady nook,
Let it be Summer, my love is dead!
Winter away like a ghost has fled, —
Let it be Spring, then — my love is dead!
The Winter is come, with white, wan cheek,
The bare boughs toss, and the wild winds shriek;
Let it be Winter, my love is dead!
Autumn is come, with its gold-tressed trees.
Autumn away like a ghost has fled, —
The Spring away like a ghost has fled, —
Summer away like a ghost has fled, —
The Summer is come with burning light;
The swallow wheels and dips in his flight;
Far through the wood sighs the dirge-like breeze;