There Will Come Soft Rains.

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools, singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims 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 utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone. (There will come soft rains...) the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; the frogs in the pools, singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins that wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one knows of the war, not one cares now that it is done. Not one pays mind, neither bird nor tree, that mankind has perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, has scarcely known that we are gone... Here comes soft rains....