Name Amigo

Robert Frost Generated Poem

    And when I come to the garden ground,
    A tree beside the wall stands bare,
    
    Up from the tangle of withered weeds
    And when I come to the garden ground,
    
    And looked down one as far as I could
    Nothing gold can stay.
    And further still at an unearthly height,
    
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    But not to call me back or say good-bye;
    I have outwalked the furthest city light.
    In leaves no step had trodden black.
    When far away an interrupted cry