Walter Savage Landor

Here you will find the Poem Autumn of poet Walter Savage Landor


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, 
   But mourn that never must there fall 
Or on my breast or on my tomb 
   The tear that would have soothed it all.