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To Earthward

Robert Frost 1874 (San Francisco) – 1963 (Boston)

Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air

That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of - was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?

I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they're gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.

I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.

Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain

Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.

When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,

The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

49 sec read
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Robert Frost

Robert Lee Frost was an American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published in the United States. more…

All Robert Frost poems | Robert Frost Books

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    "To Earthward" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 18 Apr. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/30944/to-earthward>.

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