Tag Archives: December

“And the old deserted Year / Seems dying with the day”

With a tip of the biretta to the Laudator.
Thomas Caulfield Irwin (1823-1892), December:
It is bleak December noon,
Winter-wild and rainy grey:
By the old road thinly strewn
Drifts of dead leaves skirt the way:
Oh! the long canals and drear,
And the floods o’erflow the … Continue reading

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Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , | 7 Comments