by Robert Frost<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My sorrow, when she\u2019s here with me,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Are beautiful as days can be;<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She <\/a>loves the bare, the withered tree;<\/p>\n\n\n\n She walks the sodden pasture lane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her pleasure will not let me stay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She talks and I am fain to list:<\/p>\n\n\n\n She\u2019s glad the birds are gone away,<\/p>\n\n\n\n She\u2019s glad her simple worsted grey<\/p>\n\n\n\n Is silver now with clinging mist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The desolate, deserted trees,<\/p>\n\n\n\n The faded earth, the heavy sky,<\/p>\n\n\n\n The beauties she so truly sees,<\/p>\n\n\n\n She thinks I have no eye for these,<\/p>\n\n\n\n And vexes me for reason why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not yesterday I learned to know<\/p>\n\n\n\n The love of bare November days<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before the coming of the snow,<\/p>\n\n\n\n But it were vain to tell her so,<\/p>\n\n\n\n And they are better for her praise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Robert FrostMy sorrow, when she\u2019s here with me,Thinks these dark days of autumn rainAre beautiful as days can be;She loves the bare, the withered tree;She walks the sodden pasture lane.Her pleasure will not let me stay.She talks and I … Continue reading