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.
There Will Come Soft Rain
Sara Teasdale
(1)
Poem topics: fire, night, rain, spring, tree, war, bird, wild, white, smell, mind, fence, soft, sound, dawn, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about There Will Come Soft Rain poem by Sara Teasdale
Best Poems of Sara Teasdale