Poem2021-02-28T08:31:17+00:00

Mild Is The Parting Year

By: Walter Savage Landor

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.