ONE of my wishes is that those dark trees, So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom, But stretched away unto the edge of doom. I should not be withheld but that some day Into their vastness I should steal away, Fearless of ever finding open land, Or highway where the slow wheel ours the sand. I do not see why I should e'er turn back, Or those should not set forth upon my track To overtake me, who should miss me here And long to know if still I held them dear. They would not find me changed from him they knew-Only more sure of all I thought was true.
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- PublisherIndependently published
- Publication date2018
- ISBN 10 1719923221
- ISBN 13 9781719923224
- BindingPaperback
- Number of pages57
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Robert Frost
ISBN 10: 1719923221
ISBN 13: 9781719923224
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Book Description Paperback. Condition: Brand New. 57 pages. 9.00x6.00x0.15 inches. In Stock. Seller Inventory # 1719923221
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