Out through the field and the woodsAnd 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
Over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping...
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than 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?
~Robert Frost
Oh wow, you just posted. That was fast.
ReplyDeleteRimabaud was pretty kick-ass too.
I was sooooooo bad today and bought two Billy Collins books. But poetry books are my one little treat, right? And that Lindt milk chocolate with little bits of almonds.