Ode on the Departing Year

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Spirit who sweepest the wild harp of Time!
It is most hard, with an untroubled ear

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Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear!
Yet, mine eye fixed on Heaven’s unchanging clime,

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Long had I listened, free from mortal fear,
With inward stillness, and a bowed mind;

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When lo! its folds far waving on the wind,
I saw the train of the DEPARTING YEAR!

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Starting from my silent sadness,
Then with no unholy madness

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Ere yet the entered cloud foreclosed my sight,
I raised the impetuous song, and solemnised his flight.”

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From The Collected Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Strophe 1.

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