Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Robert Frost: Storm Fear

When the wind works against us in the dark, 
And pelts the snow
The lower chamber window on the east,
And whispers with a sort of stifled bark,
The beast, ‘Come out! Come out!’—
It costs no inward struggle not to go,
Ah, no!
I count our strength,
Two and a child,
Those of us not asleep subdued to mark
How the cold creeps as the fire dies at length,—
How drifts are piled,
Dooryard and road ungraded,
Till even the comforting barn grows far away
And my heart owns a doubt
Whether ‘tis in us to arise with day
And save ourselves unaided.

Public Domain.

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This entry was posted on January 10, 2020 by in Environmentalism, Opinion Leaders, Poetry and tagged , , .

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