I cannot but remember br    When the year grows old -- br October -- November -- br    How she disliked the cold! br br She used to watch the swallows br    Go down across the sky, br And turn from the window br    With a little sharp sigh. br br And often when the brown leaves br    Were brittle on the ground, br And the wind in the chimney br    Made a melancholy sound, br br She had a look about her br    That I wish I could forget -- br The look of a scared thing br    Sitting in a net! br br Oh, beautiful at nightfall br    The soft spitting snow! br And beautiful the bare boughs br    Rubbing to and fro! br br But the roaring of the fire, br    And the warmth of fur, br And the boiling of the kettle br    Were beautiful to her! br br I cannot but remember br    When the year grows old -- br October -- November -- br    How she disliked the cold!br br Edna St.