Explore "Song" by Théophile Gautier on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In April earth is white and rose / Like youth and love, now tendering / Her smiles, now fearful to disclose / Her virgin heart unto the Spring.
In June, a little pale and worn, / And full at heart of vague desire, / She hideth in the yellow corn, / With sunburned Summer to respire.
In August, wild Bacchante, she / Her bosom bares to Autumn shapes, / And on the tiger-skin flung free, / Draws forth the purple blood of grapes.
And in December, shrivelled, old, / Bepowdered white from foot to head, / In dream she wakens Winter cold, / That sleeps beside her in her bed.