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Robert Frost · Collected Poems

Poem 127 of 164 · West-Running Brook

Atmosphere

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INSCRIPTION FOR A GARDEN WALL

Winds blow the open grassy places bleak;
But where this old wall burns a sunny cheek,
They eddy over it too toppling weak
To blow the earth or anything self-clear;
Moisture and color and odor thicken here.
The hours of daylight gather atmosphere.

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