As I came to the edge of the woods, <br />Thrush music -- hark! <br />Now if it was dusk outside, <br />Inside it was dark. <br /> <br />Too dark in the woods for a bird <br />By sleight of wing <br />To better its perch for the night, <br />Though it still could sing. <br /> <br />The last of the light of the sun <br />That had died in the west <br />Still lived for one song more <br />In a thrush's breast. <br /> <br />Far in the pillared dark <br />Thrush music went -- <br />Almost like a call to come in <br />To the dark and lament. <br /> <br />But no, I was out for stars; <br />I would not come in. <br />I meant not even if asked; <br />And I hadn't been.<br /><br />Robert Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/come-in/
