Robert Frost

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

Into My Own - Poem by Robert Frost

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 pours 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 though was true.

Comments about Into My Own by Robert Frost

  • Mark Arvizu (3/20/2015 10:00:00 AM)

    Trees have many functions! Both literal and figurative (Report) Reply

    3 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Brian Jani (4/26/2014 3:54:00 AM)

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

  • Barry Middleton (1/4/2014 3:04:00 PM)

    A beautiful poem about escape and death. Time nor even death can change a man who truly knows who he is. (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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Read poems about / on: dark, change, tree

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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