"The Wood-Pile," by the American poet Robert Frost, is at once a playful and somber look at the relationship between human beings and the natural world, as well as at the joys and dangers of exploration. The poem's speaker describes his surroundings as he walks through a frozen swamp, getting further from home in the process. Exploring this unfamiliar and seemingly unwelcoming place makes the speaker feel profoundly alone. When he stumbles upon an abandoned pile of wood, however, he feels a sense of connection, and imagines that the pile's creator left the wood behind in order to move on to "fresh," or new and invigorating, "tasks." At the same time, the rotting pile wrapped in vines ends the poem with a perhaps unsettling image of death, decay, and impermanence. "The Wood-Pile" was published in Frost's second book, his 1914 collection North of Boston.
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The Full Text of “The Wood-Pile”
1Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day,
2I paused and said, "I will turn back from here.
3No, I will go on farther—and we shall see."
4The hard snow held me, save where now and then
5One foot went through. The view was all in lines
6Straight up and down of tall slim trees
7Too much alike to mark or name a place by
8So as to say for certain I was here
9Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
10A small bird flew before me. He was careful
11To put a tree between us when he lighted,
12And say no word to tell me who he was
13Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
14He thought that I was after him for a feather—
15The white one in his tail; like one who takes
16Everything said as personal to himself.
17One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
18And then there was a pile of wood for which
19I forgot him and let his little fear
20Carry him off the way I might have gone,
21Without so much as wishing him good-night.
22He went behind it to make his last stand.
23It was a cord of maple, cut and split
24And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
25And not another like it could I see.
26No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it.
27And it was older sure than this year's cutting,
28Or even last year's or the year's before.
29The wood was grey and the bark warping off it
30And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
31Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
32What held it though on one side was a tree
33Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
34These latter about to fall. I thought that only
35Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
36Could so forget his handiwork on which
37He spent himself, the labour of his axe,
38And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
39To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
40With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
The Full Text of “The Wood-Pile”
1Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day,
2I paused and said, "I will turn back from here.
3No, I will go on farther—and we shall see."
4The hard snow held me, save where now and then
5One foot went through. The view was all in lines
6Straight up and down of tall slim trees
7Too much alike to mark or name a place by
8So as to say for certain I was here
9Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
10A small bird flew before me. He was careful
11To put a tree between us when he lighted,
12And say no word to tell me who he was
13Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
14He thought that I was after him for a feather—
15The white one in his tail; like one who takes
16Everything said as personal to himself.
17One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
18And then there was a pile of wood for which
19I forgot him and let his little fear
20Carry him off the way I might have gone,
21Without so much as wishing him good-night.
22He went behind it to make his last stand.
23It was a cord of maple, cut and split
24And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
25And not another like it could I see.
26No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it.
27And it was older sure than this year's cutting,
28Or even last year's or the year's before.
29The wood was grey and the bark warping off it
30And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
31Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
32What held it though on one side was a tree
33Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
34These latter about to fall. I thought that only
35Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
36Could so forget his handiwork on which
37He spent himself, the labour of his axe,
38And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
39To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
40With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
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“The Wood-Pile” Summary
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“The Wood-Pile” Themes
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Humanity vs. Nature
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Isolation, Exploration, and Connection
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Impermanence and Mortality
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Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “The Wood-Pile”
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Lines 1-3
Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day,
I paused and said, "I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther—and we shall see." -
Lines 4-9
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
One foot went through. The view was all in lines
Straight up and down of tall slim trees
Too much alike to mark or name a place by
So as to say for certain I was here
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home. -
Lines 10-13
A small bird flew before me. He was careful
To put a tree between us when he lighted,
And say no word to tell me who he was
Who was so foolish as to think what
he
thought. -
Lines 14-17
He thought that I was after him for a feather—
The white one in his tail; like one who takes
Everything said as personal to himself.
One flight out sideways would have undeceived him. -
Lines 18-22
And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand. -
Lines 23-26
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
And not another like it could I see.
No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it. -
Lines 27-31
And it was older sure than this year's cutting,
Or even last year's or the year's before.
The wood was grey and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle. -
Lines 32-34
What held it though on one side was a tree
Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
These latter about to fall. -
Lines 34-37
I thought that only
Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
Could so forget his handiwork on which
He spent himself, the labour of his axe, -
Lines 38-40
And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
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“The Wood-Pile” Symbols
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The Swamp
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The Wood-Pile
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“The Wood-Pile” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language
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Anthropomorphism
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Assonance
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Consonance
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Alliteration
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Repetition
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Enjambment
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Imagery
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Simile
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Metaphor
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“The Wood-Pile” Vocabulary
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
- Lighted
- Undeceived
- Cord of Maple
- Warping
- Clematis
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Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “The Wood-Pile”
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Form
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Meter
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Rhyme Scheme
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“The Wood-Pile” Speaker
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“The Wood-Pile” Setting
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Literary and Historical Context of “The Wood-Pile”
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More “The Wood-Pile” Resources
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External Resources
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A Reading of the Poem — Listen to "The Wood-Pile" read out loud.
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Frost's Biography — A quick introduction to Frost's life and poetry.
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Robert Frost's New England — An article from the Smithsonian about the New England landscapes that inspired Frost's poetry.
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What Is a Cord of Wood? — Learn more about the "four by four by eight" pile of wood mentioned in the poem.
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The Great Dismal Swamp — Learn more about the real Virginia swamp that may have inspired "The Wood-Pile."
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LitCharts on Other Poems by Robert Frost
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