by: Robert Frost (1874-1963)
- didn't like the way he went away.
That smile! It never came of being gay.
Still he smiled—did you see him?—I was sure!
Perhaps because we gave him only bread
And the wretch knew from that that we were poor.
Perhaps because he let us give instead
Of seizing from us as he might have seized.
Perhaps he mocked at us for being wed,
Or being very young (and he was pleased
To have a vision of us old and dead).
I wonder how far down the road he's got.
He's watching from the woods as like as not.
POEMS BY ROBERT FROST
"The Smile" is
reprinted from Mountain Interval. Robert Frost. New York:
Henry Holt, 1921.