North of Boston
Frost's later poetry shows little change or development from his earlier writing. It confirms what he had established in such early books as North of Boston. For example, a poem called "Birches," written in 1916 begins: When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay As ice storms do. And it ends: I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.