A New Acquaintance of Thy Mind: Day 3

There is more life in twilight than in day,

More heat in Autumn's blush than Summer's bloom:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May;

September's breezes bear the fruits' perfume.

Regret not that the seasons fleet, nor sigh,

Nor weep upon the grave of summer's light;

What shall 't avail thee if thou dost deny

The crownèd splendour of the winter night?

Upon that barren beauty cast thine eyes,

Which, like the jasmine 'neath the sickle moon,

Is fairest seen by starlight; nor disprize

A bright December for a fickle June.

Then, as the year shall urge the seasons past,

Each month for gladness shall outweigh the last.