Explore "After (Shells)" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
After the summer glory has departed, / After the sun slides low adown the skies, / After each snowy rose, and the red-hearted, / Droops in the chilling blast, and faints, and dies, / When the brown bee no longer seeks the clover, / But flies away, and hides in his honeyed den. / And from the bleak hills cutting winds blow over, / Full of keen darts -- ah, will you love me then?
Or is it but the passion heat of Summer, / That you mistake for love within your heart? / And will not Winter, that unwelcome comer, / With his cold, scornful sneers, make it depart? / Have not the subtle odors of the flowers / Drugged you, and made you drunk with rare perfumes? / And when the winter crashes through the bowers, / Will not your love fade, with the fading blooms?