Reading Time: < 1 minute

Poem

YEAR that trembled and reel’d beneath me!
Your summer wind was warm enough–yet the air I breathed froze me;
A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken’d me;
Must I change my triumphant songs? said I to myself;
Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baffled?
And sullen hymns of defeat?

Previous Poem
Year Of Meteors, 1859 ’60
Next Poem
Years Of The Modern