XCVII. How like a winter hath my absence been
        
          How like a winter hath my absence been
          From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
          What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
          What old December 's bareness everywhere!
          And yet this time removed was summer 's time;
          The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
          Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
          Like widow'd wombs after their lords ' decease:
          Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
          But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit;
          For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
          And, thou away, the very birds are mute:
          		 Or, if they sing,' tis with so dull a cheer,
          		 That leaves look pale, dreading the winter 's near.