The Spring And The Fall

In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The trees were black where the bark was wet.
I see them yet, in the spring of the year.
He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach
That was out of the way and hard to reach.

In the fall of the year, in the fall of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The rooks went up with a raucous trill.
I hear them still, in the fall of the year.
He laughed at all I dared to praise,
And broke my heart, in little ways.

Year be springing or year be falling,
The bark will drip and the birds be calling.
There's much that's fine to see and hear
In the spring of a year, in the fall of a year.
'Tis not love's going hurt my days.
But that it went in little ways.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Comments (6)

i hate your poems nbjbhvgtcutbnlnbvxcyvbjmjvuhihuftyfuylhulufutyfutyugvyuf67tstyfyid5sdfyfyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
As beautiful, as sad..........
Love this poem by the poet. Makes me wish there were summer/winter version also! ! !
This is both subtle and easy to understand. Millay was a genius.
So easy to break a heart simply by being thoughtless. The pain comes through clearly in this poem.
See More