The Birthplace Poem by Robert Frost

The Birthplace

Rating: 4.3


Here further up the mountain slope
Than there was every any hope,
My father built, enclosed a spring,
Strung chains of wall round everything,
Subdued the growth of earth to grass,
And brought our various lives to pass.
A dozen girls and boys we were.
The mountain seemed to like the stir,
And made of us a little while-
With always something in her smile.
Today she wouldn't know our name.
(No girl's, of course, has stayed the same.)
The mountain pushed us off her knees.
And now her lap is full of trees.

Thursday, May 14, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: birth
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tom Allport 21 December 2016

somewhere to live and grow for a short while

3 2 Reply
maddie 12 November 2020

what is the main figurative language did you use in this poem

0 0 Reply
Marlee jones 27 September 2020

what kind of figurative language is this?

1 0 Reply
maddie 12 November 2020

yea i was wondering the same thing" what is the main figurative language "

0 0 Reply
Chinedu Dike 04 October 2019

Well expressed thoughts and feelings. A witty work of art. Thanks for sharing.

1 2 Reply
John Shaplin 07 April 2018

Describes rural VT @1930, after 100 years of Depression, walls which once enclosed fields running through hillside forests, mostly scrub from having been cleared cut. Young folks all gone.

2 1 Reply
Rogelio Guillermo 09 October 2017

Nice take on living off a mountain... nature taking care of human beings.. nothing is better portrayal of nature-humans relationship better than that.. excellent poem

4 3 Reply
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Robert Frost

Robert Frost

San Francisco
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