They leave us so to the way we took,
As two in whom them were proved mistaken,
That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,
With michievous, vagrant, seraphic look,
And try if we cannot feel forsaken.
(Robert Frost)
More Poetry from Robert Frost:
- After Apple Picking (Robert Frost Poems)
- A Considerable Speck (Robert Frost Poems)
- In white: Frost's Early Version of Design (Robert Frost Poems)
- The Vanishing Red (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Star-Splitter (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Valley's Singing Day (Robert Frost Poems)