Alfred Tennyson

“ Thou doest expectant nature wrong,
Delaying long, delay no more.
What stays thee from the clouded noons,
Thy sweetness from its proper place
Can trouble live with April days,
Or sadness in the summer moons? ”

“ Dip down upon the northern shore,
O sweet new-year delaying long;
Thou doest expectant nature wrong,
Delaying long, delay no more. ”