| Robert Frost (1874–1963). A Boy’s Will. 1915. |
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| 5. A Late Walk |
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| WHEN I go up through the mowing field, | |
| The headless aftermath, | |
| Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew, | |
| Half closes the garden path. | |
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| And when I come to the garden ground, | 5 |
| The whir of sober birds | |
| Up from the tangle of withered weeds | |
| Is sadder than any words. | |
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| A tree beside the wall stands bare, | |
| But a leaf that lingered brown, | 10 |
| Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought, | |
| Comes softly rattling down. | |
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| I end not far from my going forth | |
| By picking the faded blue | |
| Of the last remaining aster flower | 15 |
| To carry again to you. | |
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