To-night I close my eyes and see
A strange procession passing me —
The years before I saw your face
Go by me with a wistful grace;
They pass, the sensitive, shy years,
As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.

The years went by and never knew
That each one brought me nearer you;
Their path was narrow and apart
And yet it led me to your heart —
Oh, sensitive, shy years, oh, lonely years,
That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Sara Teasdale's poem The Years

1 Comment

  1. Wil says:

    Sarah Teasdale…a truly divine poet. She’s written sooo many great poems. This one is a particular favorite…it strikes a very real chord in my own life. I, too, waited literally years & years before I met my beloved. Since then, many times I’ve looked back over my life and seen that with each passing year, my path was leading to her.

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