It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses— We pluck’d them as we pass’d!
That churlish season never frown’d On early lovers yet:
O no—the world was newly crown’d With flowers when first we met!’Twas twilight, and I bade you go, But still you held me fast;
It was the time of roses— We pluck’d them as we pass’d!