New Hampshire

open but the road.
So there they let their lives be narrowed in
By thousands the bad weather made akin.
The road became a channel running flocks
Of glossy birds like ripples over rocks.
I drove them under foot in bits of flight
That kept the ground, almost disputing right
Of way with me from apathy of wing,
A talking twitter all they had to sing.
A few I must have driven to despair
Made quick asides, but having done in air
A whir among white branches great and small
As in some too much carven marble hall
Where one false wing beat would have brought down all,
Came tamely back in front of me, the Drover,
To suffer the same driven nightmare over.
One such storm in a lifetime couldn’t teach them
That back behind pursuit it couldn’t reach them;
None flew behind me to be left alone.

Well, something for a snowstorm to have shown
The country’s singing strength thus brought together,
That though repressed and moody with the weather
Was none the less there ready to be freed
And sing the wildflowers up from root and seed.

The Lockless Door

It went many years,
But at last came a knock,
And I thought of the door
With no lock to lock.

I blew out the light,
I tip-toed the floor,
And raised both hands
In prayer to the door.

But the knock came again.
My window was wide;
I climbed on the sill
And descended outside.

Back over the sill
I bade a “Come in”
To whatever the knock
At the door may have been.

So at a knock
I emptied my cage
To hide in the world
And alter with age.

The Need of Being Versed in Country Things

The house had gone to bring again
To the midnight sky a sunset glow.
Now the chimney was all of the house that stood,
Like a pistil after the petals go.

The barn opposed across the way,
That would have joined the house in flame
Had it been the will of the wind, was left
To bear forsaken the place’s name.

No more it opened with all one end
For teams that came by the stony road
To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs
And brush the mow with the summer load.

The birds that came to it through the air
At broken windows flew out and in,
Their murmur more like the sigh we sigh
From too much dwelling on what has been.

Yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf,
And the aged elm, though touched with fire;
And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm;
And the fence post carried a strand of wire.

For them there was really nothing sad.
But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,
One had to be versed in country things
Not to believe the phoebes wept.

Endnotes

1. Cf. “The Axe-Helve.” ↩

2. Cf. line 5, “A Star in a Stone-Boat.” ↩

3. Cf. “The Witch of Coös.” ↩

4. Cf. line 31, “The Census-Taker;” line 26, “The Star-Splitter;” and line 21, “A Star in a Stone-Boat.” ↩

5. Cf. “Wild Grapes.” ↩

6. Cf. “A Fountain, a Bottle, a Donkey’s Ears and Some Books.” ↩

7. Cf. “Maple.” ↩

8. Cf. “The Pauper Witch of Grafton.” ↩

9. Cf. “The Census-Taker.” ↩

10. Cf. “The Grindstone.” ↩

11. Cf. “The Axe-Helve.” ↩

12. Cf. “The Star-Splitter.” ↩

13. Cf. “The Pauper Witch of Grafton.” ↩

14. Cf. line 27, “Wild Grapes.” ↩

15. Cf. “The Star-Splitter.” ↩

16. Cf. “Paul’s Wife.” ↩

17. Cf. “An Empty Threat.” ↩

18. Cf. “A Fountain, a Bottle, a Donkey’s Ears and Some Books.” ↩

19. Cf. “A Star in a Stone-Boat;” and “I Will Sing You One-O.” ↩

Colophon

New Hampshire
was published in 1923 by
Robert Frost.

This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Alex Cabal,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2019 by
Al Haines, Mark Akrigg, Stephen Hutchison, and The Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans available at the
HathiTrust Digital Library.

The cover page is adapted from
Twilight in the Cedars at Darien, Connecticut,
a painting completed in 1872 by
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