There are Roughs in the Woods

There are roughs in the woods which are abiding, All the spirits who linger by the river, And I am one of them, yet I am partially Drawn along to find the rest of them; I carry all the leaves of summer and autumn.

In the twisted trails and the careless woods, That do not all need care, I often still find The old bright branches bending down in flight, And take my thoughtfulness where morning flows, In the glimmer of a summer a day lost — A beauty yet unseen, waiting to be born.

• Robert Frost