Author William Allingham Is always Age severe? Is never Youth austere? Spring-fruits are sour to eat; Autumn's the mellow time. Nay, very late in the year, Short day and frosty rime, Thought, like a winter pear, Stone-cold in summer's prime, May turn from harsh to sweet. 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