When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud. And goes down burning into the gulf below, No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud. At what has happened. Birds, at least must know. It is the change to darkness in the sky. Murmuring something quiet in her breast, One bird begins to close a faded eye; Or overtaken too far from his nest, Hurrying low above the grove, some waif. Swoops just in time to his remembered tree. At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. Let the night be too dark for me to see. Into the future. Let what will be, be.
Robert FrostAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: March 26, 1874
- Died: January 29, 1963
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The private experience that you perceive forms your world, period. But which world do you inhabit? For if you altered your private sensations of reality, then that world, seemingly the only one, would also change. You do go through transformations of beliefs all the time, and your perception of the world is different. You seem to be, no longer, the person you that you were. You are quite correct? you are not the person that you were, and your world has changed, and not just symbolically.
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According to most philosophers, God in making the world enslaved it. According to Christianity, in making it, He set it free. God had written, not so much a poem, but rather a play; a play he had planned as perfect, but which had necessarily been left to human actors and stage-managers, who had since made a great mess of it.
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