“In June we picked the clover, And sea-shells in July: There was no silence at the door, No word from the sky. A hand came out of August And flicked his life away: We had not time to bargain, mope, Moralize, or pray.” DeathSummerJuneJulyAugustSeashells Book:Overtures to Death and Other Poems Source: Overtures to Death and Other Poems
“Now the peak of summer's past, the sky is overcast And the love we swore would last for an age seems deceit.” SeemsAgeLastsPastLyingSkySummerDeceitOvercast Book:The Complete Poems of C. Day Lewis Source: The Complete Poems of C. Day Lewis
