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mild is the parting year :: walter savage landor

by on December 31, 2015

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.


From → poems

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