The house had gone to bring again <br />To the midnight sky a sunset glow. <br />Now the chimney was all of the house that stood, <br />Like a pistil after the petals go. <br /> <br />The barn opposed across the way, <br />That would have joined the house in flame <br />Had it been the will of the wind, was left <br />To bear forsaken the place’s name. <br /> <br />No more it opened with all one end <br />For teams that came by the stony road <br />To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs <br />And brush the mow with the summer load. <br /> <br />The birds that came to it through the air <br />At broken windows flew out and in, <br />Their murmur more like the sigh we sigh <br />From too much dwelling on what has been. <br /> <br />Yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf, <br />And the aged elm, though touched with fire; <br />And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm; <br />And the fence post carried a strand of wire. <br /> <br />For them there was really nothing sad. <br />But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, <br />One had to be versed in country things <br />Not to believe the phoebes wept.<br /><br />Robert Lee Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/need-of-being-versed-in-country-things-the/
