Vox Populi
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Robert Frost: Reluctance
Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended. The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save those that the oak is keeping To ravel them one by one And let them go scraping and creeping Out over the crusted snow, When others are sleeping. And the dead leaves lie huddled and still, No longer blown hither and thither; The last lone aster is gone; The flowers of the witch hazel wither; The heart is still aching to seek, But the feet question ‘Whither?’ Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season? Public domain
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Love this one. Thanks for posting. Charlie
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Thanks, Charlie!
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Lovely! Thanks for posting this!–Judy Brice
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Thanks, Judy!
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Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
thank you for this
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Thanks, Russell!
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One of the first poems I memorized, long before I was a poet myself. I still don’t understand why he started stanza 3 with “And,” but ours is not to reason why… Thanks, Mike/Michael, for posting this today. xo
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Thanks, Molly!
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Thank you. Sometimes you just need a poem.
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Thanks, Barbara!
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Apart from being one of the many Robert Frost lovers – this is a particularly gorgeous poem.
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Thanks, Rosemary!
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