The Melancholy Year Is Dead with Rain
The melancholy year is dead with rain.
Drop after drop on every branch pursues.
From far away beyond the drizzled flues
A twilight saddens to the window pane.
And dimly thro' the chambers of the brain,
From place to place and gently touching, moves
My one and irrecoverable love's
Dear and lost shape one other time again.
So in the last of autumn for a day
Summer or summer's memory returns.
So in a mountain desolation burns
Some rich belated flower, and with the gray
Sick weather, in the world of rotting ferns
From out the dreadful stones it dies away.
Trumbull Stickney's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The Melancholy Year Is Dead with Rain by Trumbull Stickney )
- Who can Love You More than Me?, Md. Ziaul Haque
- You have Made Me Yours, Md. Ziaul Haque
- हाबाब सना, हाबाब मैना, Ronjoy Brahma
- When I will not be Here…, Md. Ziaul Haque
- I VISIT MYSELF, ROCHISH MON
- Water Can Speak!, Md. Ziaul Haque
- The Eye-Catcher, Naveed Khalid
- It's Shakespeare [Sheikspeare] not Sexpe.., Md. Ziaul Haque
- Magician, Naveed Khalid
- snow, gajanan mishra
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