| Robert Frost (1874–1963). A Boy’s Will. 1915. |
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| 12. Rose Pogonias |
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| A SATURATED meadow, | |
| Sun-shaped and jewel-small, | |
| A circle scarcely wider | |
| Than the trees around were tall; | |
| Where winds were quite excluded, | 5 |
| And the air was stifling sweet | |
| With the breath of many flowers,— | |
| A temple of the heat. | |
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| There we bowed us in the burning, | |
| As the sun’s right worship is, | 10 |
| To pick where none could miss them | |
| A thousand orchises; | |
| For though the grass was scattered, | |
| Yet every second spear | |
| Seemed tipped with wings of color, | 15 |
| That tinged the atmosphere. | |
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| We raised a simple prayer | |
| Before we left the spot, | |
| That in the general mowing | |
| That place might be forgot; | 20 |
| Or if not all so favoured, | |
| Obtain such grace of hours, | |
| That none should mow the grass there | |
| While so confused with flowers. | |
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