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The Years

Sara Teasdale

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.


Submitted by Venus

Added: 16 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 20 Jul 2018 4:12 AM | Viewed: 5394 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4802/ | Viewed on 20 July 2018.
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