Listen to:
Hyla Brook (:47)
by Robert Frost
performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode
By June our brook's
run out of song and speed.
Sought for much
after that, it will be found
Either to have gone
groping underground
(And taken with it
all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the
mist a month ago,
Like ghost of
sleigh-bells in a ghost of snow)--
Or flourished and
come up in jewel-weed,
Weak foliage that is
blown upon and bent
Even against the way
its waters went.
Its bed is left a
faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck
together by the heat--
A brook to none but
who remember long.
This as it will be
seen is other far
Than with brooks
taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things
we love for what they are.
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