Peril of Hope

Robert Frost (1874 - 1963)

from In The Clearing


Poem

It is right in there
Betwixt and between
The orchard bare
And the orchard green,

When the boughs are right
In a flowery burst
Of pink and white,
That we fear the worst.

For there's not a clime
But at any cost
Will take that time
For a night of frost.

2011-05