Author Sara Teasdale S TREPHON kissed me in the spring,—Robin in the fall,But Colin only looked at me—And never kissed at all.Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,—Robin's lost in play,But the kiss in Colin's eyes—Haunts me night and day. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments