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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE THRUSH'S NEST by JOHN CLARE THE EXCHANGE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SPEAKIN' O' CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONG by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY THE LAKE (VERSION 2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE BARBARA FRIETCHIE [SEPTEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO MRS. AIKIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD NORTHERN CALIFORNIA NIGHT (STRAITS OF CARQUINEZ) by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |