Edna St. Vincent Millay

Here you will find the Poem When the Year grows Old of poet Edna St. Vincent Millay

When the Year grows Old

I cannot but remember 
   When the year grows old -- 
October -- November -- 
   How she disliked the cold! 

She used to watch the swallows 
   Go down across the sky, 
And turn from the window 
   With a little sharp sigh. 

And often when the brown leaves 
   Were brittle on the ground, 
And the wind in the chimney 
   Made a melancholy sound, 

She had a look about her 
   That I wish I could forget -- 
The look of a scared thing 
   Sitting in a net! 

Oh, beautiful at nightfall 
   The soft spitting snow! 
And beautiful the bare boughs 
   Rubbing to and fro! 

But the roaring of the fire, 
   And the warmth of fur, 
And the boiling of the kettle 
   Were beautiful to her! 

I cannot but remember 
   When the year grows old -- 
October -- November -- 
   How she disliked the cold!