Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
This poem is about a bird singing outside of the narrator’s house. The narrator get annoyed by the constant singing of the bird and realizes it was wrong to snap at it.
I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;
Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.
The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.
And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song.