Now Close the Windows
by Robert Frost
Now close the windows and hush all the fields; If the trees must, let them silently toss; No bird is singing now, and if there is, Be it my loss. It will be long ere the marshes resume, It will be long ere the earliest bird: So close the windows and not hear the wind, But see all wind-stirred.
© Dave MacKen
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Robert Frost Out Loud
Audio Recordings and Texts of Robert Frost Poetry
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