Part of a moon was falling down the west, Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills. Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand Among the harp-like morning-glory strings, Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves, As if she played unheard the tenderness That wrought on him beside her in the night. "Warren," she said, "he has come home to die: You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time."
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Text Authorship:
- by Robert Frost (1874 - 1963), appears in North of Boston, from "The death of the hired man", first published 1915 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by John Mitchell (b. 1941), "Nightscene", op. 48 no. 2 (1982) [ mezzo-soprano, cello, and piano ], from Five Poems by Robert Frost, no. 2 [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 10
Word count: 86