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Poem by Robert Lee Frost


Good-by and Keep Cold


This saying good-by on the edge of the dark
And the cold to an orchard so young in the bark
Reminds me of all that can happen to harm
An orchard away at the end of the farm
All winter, cut off by a hill from the house.
I dont want it girdled by rabbit and mouse,
I dont want it dreamily nibbled for browse
By deer, and I dont want it budded by grouse.
(If certain it wouldnt be idle to call
Id summon grouse, rabbit, and deer to the wall
And warn them away with a stick for a gun.)
I dont want it stirred by the heat of the sun.
(We made it secure against being, I hope,
By setting it out on a northerly slope.)
No orchards the worse for the wintriest storm;
But one thing about it, it mustnt get warm.
How often already youve had to be told,
Keep cold, young orchard. Good-by and keep cold.
Dread fifty above more than fifty below.
I have to be gone for a season or so.
My business awhile is with different trees,
less carefully nurtured, less fruitful than these,
And such as is done to their wood with an ax--
Maples and birches and tamaracks.
I wish I could promise to lie in the night
And think of an orchards arboreal plight
When slowly (and nobody comes with a light)
Its heart sinks lower under the sod.
But something has to be left to God.



Robert Lee Frost


Robert Lee Frost's other poems:
  1. The Census-Taker
  2. Hyla Brook
  3. Meeting and Passing
  4. The Mountain
  5. The Self-Seeker


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