Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) American poet

Sonnet 43 “What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,” ll. 9ff. (1920), The Harp-Weaver and Other Poems (1923)
    (Source)

Originally published in Vanity Fair (1920-11).