i shall not care

Paul Gauguin Be Mysterious 1890

there will come soft rains

sara teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, 

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;  

And frogs in the pools singing at night, 

And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;  

Robins will wear their feathery fire 

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;  

And not one will know of the war, not one 

Will care at last when it done.  

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree 

If mankind perished utterly;  

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, 

Would scarcely know that we were gone.