Sunday, December 27, 2015

Mild is the Parting Year -- Walter Savage Landor (1775–1864)



Mild is the parting year, and sweet
         The odour of the falling spray;
Life passes on more rudely fleet,
         And balmless is its closing day.

I wait its close, I court its gloom,
         But mourn that never must there fall
Or on my breast or on my tomb
         The tear that would have soothed it all.




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