POETRY

Out of context: Reply #50

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  • _niko2

    There will come soft rains

    There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
    And swallows calling with their shimmering sound;

    And frogs in the pools singing at night,
    And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;

    Robins will wear their feathery fire
    Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

    And not one will know of the war, not one
    Will care at last when it is done.

    Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
    If mankind perished utterly;

    And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
    Would scarcely know that we were gone.

    Sarah Teasdale
    Published 1918

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