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A Song for Candlemas
by
Lizette Woodworth Reese


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There’s never a rose upon the bush,
And never a bud on any tree;
In wood and field nor hint nor sign
Of one green thing for you or me.
Come in, come in, sweet love of mine,
And let the bitter weather be!
Coated with ice the garden wall;
The river reeds are stark and still;
The wind goes plunging to the sea,
And last week’s flakes the hollows fill.
Come in, come in, sweet love, to me,
And let the year blow as it will!
This poem is in the public domain.
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Lizette Woodworth Reese (1856 – 1935) was born in Maryland and remained in the Baltimore area her entire life. A small woman with a big personality, she was a school teacher for nearly fifty years and published more than a dozen books of mostly rhyming poetry based on memories and experiences from her rural childhood.  A prominent literary figure during the 1920s, she helped found the Woman's Literary Club of Baltimore and was Poet Laureate of Maryland in 1931. Once called "one of the greatest living women in America," Lizette has been compared to Emily Dickinson and Edna St. Vincent Millay and during her lifetime was a significant influence on younger women poets.

 


New comments are closed for now.
Ross Kightly:
Oh the weather outside is (still) frightful... etc... Nice one Jayne!
Posted 02/02/2015 12:18 AM


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