Poem by Eugene Field (1850-1895)
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The Dying Year
The year has been a tedious one--
A weary round of toil and sorrow,
And, since it now at last is gone,
We say farewell and hail the morrow.
Yet o'er the wreck which time has wrought
A sweet, consoling ray is shimmered--
The one but compensating thought
That literary life has glimmered.
Struggling with hunger and with cold
The world contemptuously beheld 'er;
The little thing was one year old--
But who'd have cared had she been elder?
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Poetry by Editorial Team
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Written on 2023-11-20 at 00:10
Tags 19thcpoets  Childrenspoets  19thcpoetry
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