In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year, <br />I walked the road beside my dear. <br />The trees were black where the bark was wet. <br />I see them yet, in the spring of the year. <br />He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach <br />That was out of the way and hard to reach. <br /> <br />In the fall of the year, in the fall of the year, <br />I walked the road beside my dear. <br />The rooks went up with a raucous trill. <br />I hear them still, in the fall of the year. <br />He laughed at all I dared to praise, <br />And broke my heart, in little ways. <br /> <br />Year be springing or year be falling, <br />The bark will drip and the birds be calling. <br />There's much that's fine to see and hear <br />In the spring of a year, in the fall of a year. <br />'Tis not love's going hurt my days. <br />But that it went in little ways.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-spring-and-the-fall/
