| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXVIII. Loneliness Mild is the parting year | | By Walter Savage Landor (17751864) |
| | | MILD is the parting year, and sweet | |
| The odour of the falling spray; | |
| Life passes on more rudely fleet, | |
| And balmless is its closing day. | |
| I wait its close, I court its gloom, | 5 |
| But mourn that never must there fall | |
| Or on my breast or on my tomb | |
| The tear that would have soothd it all. | | | | |
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