Why were you born while the snow was falling?
You should have come to the cuckoos calling.
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.
Why did you die when lambs are cropping?
You should have died at the apples’ dropping,
When the grasshopper comes to trouble,
And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble,
And all winds go sighing,
For sweet things dying.
Christina G. Rossetti, A Dirge
You should have come to the cuckoos calling.
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.
Why did you die when lambs are cropping?
You should have died at the apples’ dropping,
When the grasshopper comes to trouble,
And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble,
And all winds go sighing,
For sweet things dying.
Christina G. Rossetti, A Dirge