Poem by Robert Lee Frost

Lodged

The rain to the wind said,
’You push and I’ll pelt.’
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.

1. The Fear
2. Hannibal
3. The Onset
4. Plowmen
5. The Last Word of a Blue Bird

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