Explore "Reluctance" by Robert Frost on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Out through the fields and the woods / And over the walls I have wended; / I have climbed the hills of view / And looked at the world, and descended; / I have come by the highway home, / And lo, it is ended.
The leaves are all dead on the ground, / Save those that the oak is keeping / To ravel them one by one / And let them go scraping and creeping / Out over the crusted snow, / When others are sleeping.
And the dead leaves lie huddled and still, / No longer blown hither and thither; / The last lone aster is gone; / The flowers of the witch-hazel wither; / The heart is still aching to seek, / But the feet question ‘Whither?'
Ah, when to the heart of man / Was it ever less than a treason / To go with the drift of things, / To yield with a grace to reason, / And bow and accept and accept the end / Of a love or a season?