Robert Frost

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

Evening In A Sugar Orchard - Poem by Robert Frost

From where I lingered in a lull in March
outside the sugar-house one night for choice,
I called the fireman with a careful voice
And bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch:
'O fireman, give the fire another stoke,
And send more sparks up chimney with the smoke.'
I thought a few might tangle, as they did,
Among bare maple boughs, and in the rare
Hill atmosphere not cease to glow,
And so be added to the moon up there.
The moon, though slight, was moon enough to show
On every tree a bucket with a lid,
And on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow.
The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
They were content to figure in the trees
As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
And that was what the boughs were full of soon.

Comments about Evening In A Sugar Orchard by Robert Frost

  • (10/2/2016 11:19:00 PM)

    have you read the robert frost poem in which the narrator gets someone to stoke the fire to send sparks into the bare trees at night to make it look like there are stars? (Report) Reply

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  • Rajnish Manga (9/29/2016 10:12:00 PM)

    The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
    As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
    And that was what the boughs were full of soon.... / Impeccable and lovely portrayal of nature.
    (Report) Reply

  • Susan Williams (9/29/2016 9:50:00 PM)

    Nothing like a stroll in the evening with a poet as talented as Frost- - life is good surrounded by images like these (Report) Reply

  • (9/29/2016 8:03:00 AM)

    moon enough is good. And just today I was led to think the constellations could be named after the organs of the body (Report) Reply

  • Barry Middleton (9/29/2016 7:25:00 AM)

    Lovely images
    How can this poem be rated 2.8? OK maybe not a 10 but really! (Report) Reply

  • Julie Smith (9/29/2016 5:05:00 AM)

    Lovely imagery, and fun to read (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (9/29/2016 1:16:00 AM)

    Eveing In A Sugar Orchard
    On black ground. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Brian Jani (4/26/2014 3:19:00 AM)

    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out (Report) Reply

  • (2/8/2014 12:42:00 PM)

    When I was 12 (a long time ago) my dad and I began making syrup with his father-in-law (yes, my grandfather) in northern Indiana. The sugar-house was in my grandfather's woods, where we would work late into the night, and the stars were very evident as there was no other light. Therefore this poem enkindles (pun intended) beautiful, poignant, vivid memories of those days. The march at the end of the first line should be March. It is after all the month of March, when the temperatures are usually right for maple sap to flow, and my copy in the book I have of Frost poems has it upper case. Nevertheless, many thanks for allowing the world to read this poem which imparts the experience of seeing something very rare. (The thing Frost omitted was the marvelous aroma of boiling maple sap, which I'm sure he also experienced, but this poem is visual.) (Report) Reply

  • (10/26/2012 6:38:00 PM)

    Wow this was one snowy evening in march, so glad he had
    a fire..sure those sparks were a sight to see..fabulous! .. :)
    (Report) Reply

  • (6/12/2006 10:37:00 PM)

    the rythem and dance of the fire in the night raising up to the sky makes me feel calm. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: moon, snow, house, tree, fire, night

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Poem Edited: Monday, February 10, 2014

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