Explore "When the Year Grows Old" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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!