
The poem is a lament for the passing of summer and the arrival of winter. The speaker rejects the charms of summer, preferring the bareness and cold of winter. They see summer as a time of false triumph and artificial beauty, and welcome the wild mourning of winter's wind-tossed boughs to drown the stillness of an empty house where children no longer come home.
By Edith Nesbit · First published 1906 · Genre: Poetry, Romantic, Gothic · 178 words
Let Summer go / To other gardens; here we have no need of her.
She smiles and beckons, but we take no heed of her, / Who love not Summer, but bare boughs and snow.
Set the snow free / To choke the insolent triumph of the year, / With birds that sing as though he still were here, / And flowers that blow as if he still could see.
Let the rose die -- / What ailed the rose to blow? she is not dear to us, / Nor all the summer pageant that draws near to us; / Let it be over soon, let it go by!
A Dirge is listed on Textopian as a poem by Edith Nesbit, dated 1906 CE.
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Gothic Fiction · Victorian Era · Poetry · Death · Mourning · Loss · Sorrow · Melancholy · Dark Fantasy · Supernatural · Ghost Story · Haunted House