YEARS, many parti-colour'd years, Some have crept on, and some have flown Since first before me fell those tears I never could see fall alone. Years, not so many, are to come, Years not so varied, when from you One more will fall: when, carried home, I see it not, nor hear Adieu. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THOSE THAT HATED 'THE PLAYBOY OF THE WESTERN WORLD' by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONG BY AN OLD SHEPHERD by WILLIAM BLAKE A SUMMER IN TUSCANY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE RAKE'S PROGRESS by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB LIME STREET by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A LETTER TO CORDELIA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |