THE SOUND OF THE TREES
by: Robert Frost (1874-1963)
- WONDER
about the trees.
- Why do we wish to bear
- Forever the noise of these
- More than another noise
- So close to our dwelling place?
- We suffer them by the day
- Till we lose all measure of pace,
- And fixity in our joys,
- And acquire a listening air.
- They are that that talks of going
- But never gets away;
- And that talks no less for knowing,
- As it grows wiser and older,
- That now it means to stay.
- My feet tug at the floor
- And my head sways to my shoulder
- Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
- From the window or the door.
- I shall set forth for somewhere,
- I shall make the reckless choice
- Some day when they are in voice
- And tossing so as to scare
- The white clouds over them on.
- I shall have less to say,
- But I shall be gone.
"The Sound of the Trees"
is reprinted from Mountain Interval. Robert Frost. New
York: Henry Holt, 1920. |
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