The Hill Wife Robert Frost

Loneliness
(Her Word)

One ought not to have to care
      So much as you and I
Care when the birds come round the house
      To seem to say good-bye;

Or care so much when they come back
      With whatever it is they sing;
The truth being we are as much
      Too glad for the one thing

As we are too sad for the other here—
      With birds that fill their breasts
But with each other and themselves
      And their built or driven nests.

House Fear

Always—I tell you this they learned—
Always at night when they returned
To the lonely house from far away,
To lamps unlighted and fire gone gray,
They learned to rattle the lock and key
To give whatever might chance to be
Warning and time to be off in flight:
And preferring the out- to the in-door night,
They learned to leave the house-door wide
Until they had lit the lamp inside.