Robert Frost

Some things are never clear.
But the weather is clear to-night,
Thanks to a clearing rain.
The mountains are brought up near,
The stars are brought out bright.
Your old sweet-cynical strain
Would come in like you here:
“So we won’t say nothing is clear.”

Robert Frost was an American poet and four-time recipient of the Pulitzer Prize. He died in 1963.
Originally published:
January 1, 1936


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