"There Will Come Soft Rains"

    （War Time）

    There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering¹ sound；

    And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum-trees in tremulous white；

    Robins² will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims³ on a low fence-wire；

    And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.

    Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly⁴；

    And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.