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Sara Teasdale - To The Years
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To-night I close my eyes and see 
A strange procession passing me— 
The years before I saw your face 
Go by me with a wistful grace; 
They pass, the sensitive shy years, 
As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.

The years went by and never knew 
That each one brought me nearer you; 
Their path was narrow and apart 
And yet it led me to your heart— 
Oh sensitive shy years, oh lonely years, 
That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.
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