Robert Frost
Come In
As I came to the edge of the woods
Thrush musichark!
Now it was dusk outside
Inside it was dark

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night
Though it could still sing

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrushs breast

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament

But no, I was out for the stars:
I would not come in
I meant not even if asked
And I hadnt been