Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

The Exposed Nest - Poem by Robert Frost

You were forever finding some new play.
So when I saw you down on hands and knees
I the meadow, busy with the new-cut hay,
Trying, I thought, to set it up on end,
I went to show you how to make it stay,
If that was your idea, against the breeze,
And, if you asked me, even help pretend
To make it root again and grow afresh.
But 'twas no make-believe with you today,
Nor was the grass itself your real concern,
Though I found your hand full of wilted fern,
Steel-bright June-grass, and blackening heads of clovers.
'Twas a nest full of young birds on the ground
The cutter-bar had just gone champing over
(Miraculously without tasking flesh)
And left defenseless to the heat and light.
You wanted to restore them to their right
Of something interposed between their sight
And too much world at once--could means be found.
The way the nest-full every time we stirred
Stood up to us as to a mother-bird
Whose coming home has been too long deferred,
Made me ask would the mother-bird return
And care for them in such a change of scene
And might out meddling make her more afraid.
That was a thing we could not wait to learn.
We saw the risk we took in doing good,
But dared not spare to do the best we could
Though harm should come of it; so built the screen
You had begun, and gave them back their shade.
All this to prove we cared. Why is there then
No more to tell? We turned to other things.
I haven't any memory--have you?--
Of ever coming to the place again
To see if the birds lived the first night through,
And so at last to learn to use their wings.

Comments about The Exposed Nest by Robert Frost

  • Gold Star - 5,475 Points Margaret O Driscoll (5/17/2015 3:41:00 AM)

    Love this poem, brings to mind similar occasions! (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Archana Goil (3/3/2008 11:21:00 PM)

    This poem is from a collection called 'You Come Too' by the famous American poet Robert Frost (1874-1963) . In it the poet recalls how he once joined his young daughter in an effort to save a group of baby birds after their nest was destroyed by a harvesting machine. The poem provides a moving description of compassion for the baby birds in their hour of danger, but it also raises questions about whether such kindness is always wise and whether it is enough to show kindness on particular occasions. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: june, mother, memory, believe, today, change, home, light, world, night

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

[Hata Bildir]