November

Within and Without: A Dramatic Poem Part III
And weep not, though the Beautiful decay...
Within thy heart, as daily in thine eyes;
Thy heart must have its autumn, its pale skies,
Leading, mayhap, to winter's dim dismay.
Yet doubt not. Beauty doth not pass away;
Her form departs not, though her body dies.
Secure beneath the earth the snowdrop lies,
Waiting the spring's young resurrection-day,
Through the kind nurture of the winter cold.
Nor seek thou by vain effort to revive
The summer-time, when roses were alive;
Do thou thy work-be willing to be old:
Thy sorrow is the husk that doth infold
A gorgeous June, for which thou need'st not strive
                                            -George MacDonald


what more can I say? this expresses all that is tangled inside.