Christina Rossetti — Grown and Flown

I loved my love from green of Spring          Until sere Autumn's fall; But now that leaves are withering          How should one love at all?          One heart's too small For hunger, cold, love, everything. I loved my love on sunny days         Until late Summer's wane; But now that frost begins to glaze          How should one love again?          Nay, love and pain Walk wide apart in diverse ways. I loved my love,--alas to see          That this should be, alas! I thought that this could scarcely be,          Yet has it come to pass:          Sweet sweet love was, Now bitter bitter grown to me.