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Robert Lee Frost (1874-1963)
The Sound Of Trees
I 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 text used here is that of the original versions of this poem
is as it appeared in the August, 1915, issue of The Atlantic Monthly.
There are some differences between this text and the text of the
poem as it appeared in later editions of Frost's poetry.
- sent in by Arnold Ajello - many thanx
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revised 24 November 2005
URL http://www.wussu.com/poems/rlftsot.htm