The Poetry Corner

The Key-Note.

By Christina Georgina Rossetti

Where are the songs I used to know, Where are the notes I used to sing? I have forgotten everything I used to know so long ago; Summer has followed after Spring; Now Autumn is so shrunk and sere, I scarcely think a sadder thing Can be the Winter of my year. Yet Robin sings through Winter's rest, When bushes put their berries on; While they their ruddy jewels don, He sings out of a ruddy breast; The hips and haws and ruddy breast Make one spot warm where snowflakes lie They break and cheer the unlovely rest Of Winter's pause - and why not I?