Explore "There is a Budding Morrow in Midnight" by Christina Georgina Rossetti on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Wintry boughs against a wintry sky; / Yet the sky is partly blue / And the clouds are partly bright. / Who can tell but sap is mounting high / Out of sight, / Ready to burst through?
Winter is the mother-nurse of Spring, / Lovely for her daughter's sake. / Not unlovely for her own; / For a future buds in everything / Grown or blown / Or about to break.