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Spinnaker
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Joined: Mon Oct 10, 2016 7:25 am
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Poems

Post by Spinnaker » Tue Apr 17, 2018 5:32 am

There Will Come Soft Rains
Sara Teasdale, 1884 - 1933

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances...”
Viktor E. Frankl

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