Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 227

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CCXXVII NOW
A crazy fool am I, and mad
 As the maddest dreams of sleep.
I laughed when I was very sad,
 And now for joy I weep.

The cold is here, the darkness drear,
 The yellow gloom, the rain.
And, lo, in the winter of the year
 'Tis spring with me again.

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