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Edna St. Vincent Millay - When The Year Grows Old

I cannot but remember
   When the year grows old—
October—November—
   How she disliked the cold!

She used to watch the swallows
   Go down across the sky,
And turn from the window
   With a little sharp sigh.

And often when the brown leaves
   Were brittle on the ground,
And the wind in the chimney
   Made a melancholy sound,

She had a look about her
   That I wish I could forget—
The look of a scared thing
   Sitting in a net!

Oh, beautiful at nightfall
   The soft spitting snow!
And beautiful the bare boughs
   Rubbing to and fro!

But the roaring of the fire,
   And the warmth of fur,
And the boiling of the kettle
   Were beautiful to her!

I cannot but remember
   When the year grows old —
October — November —
   How she disliked the cold!

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Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 5390 times | Comments and analysis of When The Year Grows Old by Edna St. Vincent Millay Comments (0)

When The Year Grows Old - Comments and Information

Poet: Edna St. Vincent Millay
Poem: When The Year Grows Old
Volume: Renascence and Other Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1917
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