A Line-Storm Song Poem by Robert Frost

A Line-Storm Song

Rating: 3.0


The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
And the hoof-prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in the rain.

The birds have less to say for themselves
In the wood-world’s torn despair
Than now these numberless years the elves,
Although they are no less there:
All song of the woods is crushed like some
Wild, easily shattered rose.
Come, be my love in the wet woods; come,
Where the boughs rain when it blows.

There is the gale to urge behind
And bruit our singing down,
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
From which to gather your gown.
What matter if we go clear to the west,
And come not through dry-shod?
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
The rain-fresh goldenrod.

Oh, never this whelming east wind swells
But it seems like the sea’s return
To the ancient lands where it left the shells
Before the age of the fern;
And it seems like the time when after doubt
Our love came back amain.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Crystie Cook 06 April 2010

This is a very nice poem read literally or as an allegory, a love poem from the speaker who is telling his love that in spite of obstacles and the ups and downs in life-like what may happen in a storm-he still wants her to come and stand with him. I especially like the line 'rain-fresh goldenrod.' Robert Frost is always a nice combination of original wording with a touch of sentimentalism.

43 23 Reply
Dhruv Hazarika 17 October 2018

I definitely agree.

0 0 Reply
Stephen W 12 February 2013

Very beautiful. When he writes of love I believe him.

22 20 Reply
Gavin Kleinebecker 28 April 2013

Is amain supposed to be again in the 6th line of the last stanza?

20 20 Reply
Dawn Fuzan 27 April 2014

This us really good

17 13 Reply
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2 0 Reply
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2 2 Reply
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0 7 Reply
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