Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MIDSUMMER BIRDS, by ROBERT FROST

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MIDSUMMER BIRDS, by                 Poet's Biography
First Line: Could there be aught more hushed
Last Line: May be none but me and you
Subject(s): Birds

Could there be aught more hushed
Than their quietest of wings,
It is their treble voices now
As they drop from the sacred bough
Intent on distant things.

Could there be aught more safe
Than the hush in which they flit,
It is the little driven nest
That leans out high o'er every quest
With its darkness of the pit.

In the warm field to which
They dip, blue-winged, all day,
The tree about the fruit it feeds,
The grass about its little seeds,
Is not more still than they.

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