There Will Come Soft Rain

There will come soft rain 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.

by Sara Teasdale

Comments (19)

TRWEWWRWWTWFV JAKE PAUL IS NOT COOL
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ITS EVER DAY BROOOOOOOOOOOO YOUR POEM
Very nice poem it is
no words come to mind poems can bring sunshine to ones heart fleeting as they are but delightful all the same
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