The Full Text of “Home Burial”
1He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
2Before she saw him. She was starting down,
3Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
4She took a doubtful step and then undid it
5To raise herself and look again. He spoke
6Advancing toward her: ‘What is it you see
7From up there always—for I want to know.’
8She turned and sank upon her skirts at that,
9And her face changed from terrified to dull.
10He said to gain time: ‘What is it you see,’
11Mounting until she cowered under him.
12‘I will find out now—you must tell me, dear.’
13She, in her place, refused him any help
14With the least stiffening of her neck and silence.
15She let him look, sure that he wouldn’t see,
16Blind creature; and awhile he didn’t see.
17But at last he murmured, ‘Oh,’ and again, ‘Oh.’
18‘What is it—what?’ she said.
19 ‘Just that I see.’
20‘You don’t,’ she challenged. ‘Tell me what it is.’
21‘The wonder is I didn’t see at once.
22I never noticed it from here before.
23I must be wonted to it—that’s the reason.
24The little graveyard where my people are!
25So small the window frames the whole of it.
26Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it?
27There are three stones of slate and one of marble,
28Broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight
29On the sidehill. We haven’t to mind those.
30But I understand: it is not the stones,
31But the child’s mound—’
32 ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t,’ she cried.
33She withdrew shrinking from beneath his arm
34That rested on the banister, and slid downstairs;
35And turned on him with such a daunting look,
36He said twice over before he knew himself:
37‘Can’t a man speak of his own child he’s lost?’
38‘Not you! Oh, where’s my hat? Oh, I don’t need it!
39I must get out of here. I must get air.
40I don’t know rightly whether any man can.’
41‘Amy! Don’t go to someone else this time.
42Listen to me. I won’t come down the stairs.’
43He sat and fixed his chin between his fists.
44‘There’s something I should like to ask you, dear.’
45‘You don’t know how to ask it.’
46 ‘Help me, then.’
47Her fingers moved the latch for all reply.
48‘My words are nearly always an offense.
49I don’t know how to speak of anything
50So as to please you. But I might be taught
51I should suppose. I can’t say I see how.
52A man must partly give up being a man
53With women-folk. We could have some arrangement
54By which I’d bind myself to keep hands off
55Anything special you’re a-mind to name.
56Though I don’t like such things ’twixt those that love.
57Two that don’t love can’t live together without them.
58But two that do can’t live together with them.’
59She moved the latch a little. ‘Don’t—don’t go.
60Don’t carry it to someone else this time.
61Tell me about it if it’s something human.
62Let me into your grief. I’m not so much
63Unlike other folks as your standing there
64Apart would make me out. Give me my chance.
65I do think, though, you overdo it a little.
66What was it brought you up to think it the thing
67To take your mother-loss of a first child
68So inconsolably—in the face of love.
69You’d think his memory might be satisfied—’
70‘There you go sneering now!’
71 ‘I’m not, I’m not!
72You make me angry. I’ll come down to you.
73God, what a woman! And it’s come to this,
74A man can’t speak of his own child that’s dead.’
75‘You can’t because you don't know how to speak.
76If you had any feelings, you that dug
77With your own hand—how could you?—his little grave;
78I saw you from that very window there,
79Making the gravel leap and leap in air,
80Leap up, like that, like that, and land so lightly
81And roll back down the mound beside the hole.
82I thought, Who is that man? I didn’t know you.
83And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs
84To look again, and still your spade kept lifting.
85Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice
86Out in the kitchen, and I don’t know why,
87But I went near to see with my own eyes.
88You could sit there with the stains on your shoes
89Of the fresh earth from your own baby’s grave
90And talk about your everyday concerns.
91You had stood the spade up against the wall
92Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.’
93‘I shall laugh the worst laugh I ever laughed.
94I’m cursed. God, if I don’t believe I’m cursed.’
95‘I can repeat the very words you were saying:
96“Three foggy mornings and one rainy day
97Will rot the best birch fence a man can build.”
98Think of it, talk like that at such a time!
99What had how long it takes a birch to rot
100To do with what was in the darkened parlor?
101You couldn’t care! The nearest friends can go
102With anyone to death, comes so far short
103They might as well not try to go at all.
104No, from the time when one is sick to death,
105One is alone, and he dies more alone.
106Friends make pretense of following to the grave,
107But before one is in it, their minds are turned
108And making the best of their way back to life
109And living people, and things they understand.
110But the world’s evil. I won’t have grief so
111If I can change it. Oh, I won’t, I won’t!’
112‘There, you have said it all and you feel better.
113You won’t go now. You’re crying. Close the door.
114The heart’s gone out of it: why keep it up.
115Amy! There’s someone coming down the road!’
116‘You—oh, you think the talk is all. I must go—
117Somewhere out of this house. How can I make you—’
118‘If—you—do!’ She was opening the door wider.
119‘Where do you mean to go? First tell me that.
120I’ll follow and bring you back by force. I will!—’
The Full Text of “Home Burial”
1He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
2Before she saw him. She was starting down,
3Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
4She took a doubtful step and then undid it
5To raise herself and look again. He spoke
6Advancing toward her: ‘What is it you see
7From up there always—for I want to know.’
8She turned and sank upon her skirts at that,
9And her face changed from terrified to dull.
10He said to gain time: ‘What is it you see,’
11Mounting until she cowered under him.
12‘I will find out now—you must tell me, dear.’
13She, in her place, refused him any help
14With the least stiffening of her neck and silence.
15She let him look, sure that he wouldn’t see,
16Blind creature; and awhile he didn’t see.
17But at last he murmured, ‘Oh,’ and again, ‘Oh.’
18‘What is it—what?’ she said.
19 ‘Just that I see.’
20‘You don’t,’ she challenged. ‘Tell me what it is.’
21‘The wonder is I didn’t see at once.
22I never noticed it from here before.
23I must be wonted to it—that’s the reason.
24The little graveyard where my people are!
25So small the window frames the whole of it.
26Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it?
27There are three stones of slate and one of marble,
28Broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight
29On the sidehill. We haven’t to mind those.
30But I understand: it is not the stones,
31But the child’s mound—’
32 ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t,’ she cried.
33She withdrew shrinking from beneath his arm
34That rested on the banister, and slid downstairs;
35And turned on him with such a daunting look,
36He said twice over before he knew himself:
37‘Can’t a man speak of his own child he’s lost?’
38‘Not you! Oh, where’s my hat? Oh, I don’t need it!
39I must get out of here. I must get air.
40I don’t know rightly whether any man can.’
41‘Amy! Don’t go to someone else this time.
42Listen to me. I won’t come down the stairs.’
43He sat and fixed his chin between his fists.
44‘There’s something I should like to ask you, dear.’
45‘You don’t know how to ask it.’
46 ‘Help me, then.’
47Her fingers moved the latch for all reply.
48‘My words are nearly always an offense.
49I don’t know how to speak of anything
50So as to please you. But I might be taught
51I should suppose. I can’t say I see how.
52A man must partly give up being a man
53With women-folk. We could have some arrangement
54By which I’d bind myself to keep hands off
55Anything special you’re a-mind to name.
56Though I don’t like such things ’twixt those that love.
57Two that don’t love can’t live together without them.
58But two that do can’t live together with them.’
59She moved the latch a little. ‘Don’t—don’t go.
60Don’t carry it to someone else this time.
61Tell me about it if it’s something human.
62Let me into your grief. I’m not so much
63Unlike other folks as your standing there
64Apart would make me out. Give me my chance.
65I do think, though, you overdo it a little.
66What was it brought you up to think it the thing
67To take your mother-loss of a first child
68So inconsolably—in the face of love.
69You’d think his memory might be satisfied—’
70‘There you go sneering now!’
71 ‘I’m not, I’m not!
72You make me angry. I’ll come down to you.
73God, what a woman! And it’s come to this,
74A man can’t speak of his own child that’s dead.’
75‘You can’t because you don't know how to speak.
76If you had any feelings, you that dug
77With your own hand—how could you?—his little grave;
78I saw you from that very window there,
79Making the gravel leap and leap in air,
80Leap up, like that, like that, and land so lightly
81And roll back down the mound beside the hole.
82I thought, Who is that man? I didn’t know you.
83And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs
84To look again, and still your spade kept lifting.
85Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice
86Out in the kitchen, and I don’t know why,
87But I went near to see with my own eyes.
88You could sit there with the stains on your shoes
89Of the fresh earth from your own baby’s grave
90And talk about your everyday concerns.
91You had stood the spade up against the wall
92Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.’
93‘I shall laugh the worst laugh I ever laughed.
94I’m cursed. God, if I don’t believe I’m cursed.’
95‘I can repeat the very words you were saying:
96“Three foggy mornings and one rainy day
97Will rot the best birch fence a man can build.”
98Think of it, talk like that at such a time!
99What had how long it takes a birch to rot
100To do with what was in the darkened parlor?
101You couldn’t care! The nearest friends can go
102With anyone to death, comes so far short
103They might as well not try to go at all.
104No, from the time when one is sick to death,
105One is alone, and he dies more alone.
106Friends make pretense of following to the grave,
107But before one is in it, their minds are turned
108And making the best of their way back to life
109And living people, and things they understand.
110But the world’s evil. I won’t have grief so
111If I can change it. Oh, I won’t, I won’t!’
112‘There, you have said it all and you feel better.
113You won’t go now. You’re crying. Close the door.
114The heart’s gone out of it: why keep it up.
115Amy! There’s someone coming down the road!’
116‘You—oh, you think the talk is all. I must go—
117Somewhere out of this house. How can I make you—’
118‘If—you—do!’ She was opening the door wider.
119‘Where do you mean to go? First tell me that.
120I’ll follow and bring you back by force. I will!—’
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“Home Burial” Introduction
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“Home Burial” Summary
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“Home Burial” Themes
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The Cost of Miscommunication
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Death and Grief
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Gender Roles
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Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “Home Burial”
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Lines 1-7
He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
Before she saw him. She was starting down,
Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
She took a doubtful step and then undid it
To raise herself and look again. He spoke
Advancing toward her: ‘What is it you see
From up there always—for I want to know.’ -
Lines 8-14
She turned and sank upon her skirts at that,
And her face changed from terrified to dull.
He said to gain time: ‘What is it you see,’
Mounting until she cowered under him.
‘I will find out now—you must tell me, dear.’
She, in her place, refused him any help
With the least stiffening of her neck and silence. -
Lines 15-20
She let him look, sure that he wouldn’t see,
Blind creature; and awhile he didn’t see.
But at last he murmured, ‘Oh,’ and again, ‘Oh.’
‘What is it—what?’ she said.
‘Just that I see.’
‘You don’t,’ she challenged. ‘Tell me what it is.’ -
Lines 21-32
‘The wonder is I didn’t see at once.
I never noticed it from here before.
I must be wonted to it—that’s the reason.
The little graveyard where my people are!
So small the window frames the whole of it.
Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it?
There are three stones of slate and one of marble,
Broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight
On the sidehill. We haven’t to mind
those
.
But I understand: it is not the stones,
But the child’s mound—’
‘Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t,’ she cried. -
Lines 33-40
She withdrew shrinking from beneath his arm
That rested on the banister, and slid downstairs;
And turned on him with such a daunting look,
He said twice over before he knew himself:
‘Can’t a man speak of his own child he’s lost?’
‘Not you! Oh, where’s my hat? Oh, I don’t need it!
I must get out of here. I must get air.
I don’t know rightly whether any man can.’ -
Lines 41-47
‘Amy! Don’t go to someone else this time.
Listen to me. I won’t come down the stairs.’
He sat and fixed his chin between his fists.
‘There’s something I should like to ask you, dear.’
‘You don’t know how to ask it.’
‘Help me, then.’
Her fingers moved the latch for all reply. -
Lines 48-58
‘My words are nearly always an offense.
I don’t know how to speak of anything
So as to please you. But I might be taught
I should suppose. I can’t say I see how.
A man must partly give up being a man
With women-folk. We could have some arrangement
By which I’d bind myself to keep hands off
Anything special you’re a-mind to name.
Though I don’t like such things ’twixt those that love.
Two that don’t love can’t live together without them.
But two that do can’t live together with them.’ -
Lines 59-69
She moved the latch a little. ‘Don’t—don’t go.
Don’t carry it to someone else this time.
Tell me about it if it’s something human.
Let me into your grief. I’m not so much
Unlike other folks as your standing there
Apart would make me out. Give me my chance.
I do think, though, you overdo it a little.
What was it brought you up to think it the thing
To take your mother-loss of a first child
So inconsolably—in the face of love.
You’d think his memory might be satisfied—’ -
Lines 70-74
‘There you go sneering now!’
‘I’m not, I’m not!
You make me angry. I’ll come down to you.
God, what a woman! And it’s come to this,
A man can’t speak of his own child that’s dead.’ -
Lines 75-84
‘You can’t because you don't know how to speak.
If you had any feelings, you that dug
With your own hand—how could you?—his little grave;
I saw you from that very window there,
Making the gravel leap and leap in air,
Leap up, like that, like that, and land so lightly
And roll back down the mound beside the hole.
I thought, Who is that man? I didn’t know you.
And I crept down the stairs and up the stairs
To look again, and still your spade kept lifting. -
Lines 85-92
Then you came in. I heard your rumbling voice
Out in the kitchen, and I don’t know why,
But I went near to see with my own eyes.
You could sit there with the stains on your shoes
Of the fresh earth from your own baby’s grave
And talk about your everyday concerns.
You had stood the spade up against the wall
Outside there in the entry, for I saw it.’ -
Lines 93-101
‘I shall laugh the worst laugh I ever laughed.
I’m cursed. God, if I don’t believe I’m cursed.’
‘I can repeat the very words you were saying:
“Three foggy mornings and one rainy day
Will rot the best birch fence a man can build.”
Think of it, talk like that at such a time!
What had how long it takes a birch to rot
To do with what was in the darkened parlor?
You
couldn’t
care! -
Lines 101-111
The nearest friends can go
With anyone to death, comes so far short
They might as well not try to go at all.
No, from the time when one is sick to death,
One is alone, and he dies more alone.
Friends make pretense of following to the grave,
But before one is in it, their minds are turned
And making the best of their way back to life
And living people, and things they understand.
But the world’s evil. I won’t have grief so
If I can change it. Oh, I won’t, I won’t!’ -
Lines 112-117
‘There, you have said it all and you feel better.
You won’t go now. You’re crying. Close the door.
The heart’s gone out of it: why keep it up.
Amy! There’s someone coming down the road!’
‘
You
—oh, you think the talk is all. I must go—
Somewhere out of this house. How can I make you—’ -
Lines 118-120
‘If—you—do!’ She was opening the door wider.
‘Where do you mean to go? First tell me that.
I’ll follow and bring you back by force. I
will!
—’
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“Home Burial” Symbols
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The House
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The Spade
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“Home Burial” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language
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Assonance
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Alliteration
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Caesura
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Dialogue
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Enjambment
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Epizeuxis
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Imagery
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Consonance
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Metaphor
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Rhetorical Question
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“Home Burial” 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.
- Pretense
- Mounting
- Cowered
- Wonted
- Slate
- Sidehill
- Mound
- Daunting
- Fixed
- Bind
- A-mind
- ‘Twixt
- Inconsolably
- Sneering
- Spade
- ‘what was in the darkened parlor’
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- See where this vocabulary word appears in the poem.
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Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “Home Burial”
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Form
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Meter
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Rhyme Scheme
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“Home Burial” Speaker
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“Home Burial” Setting
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Literary and Historical Context of “Home Burial”
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More “Home Burial” Resources
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External Resources
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"Home Burial" Short Film — Watch a short film adaptation of "Home Burial." Notice how easily the poem's dialogue translates to drama!
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Close Readings of "Home Burial" — Explore literary scholars' analysis of "Home Burial."
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"Darkness or Light?" — Read an essay on the dark complexity of Frost's poetry.
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Robert Frost's New England — Explore the region that inspired Frost's work in a contemporary photo essay.
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Robert Frost's Biography — Read about the poet's life and work.
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LitCharts on Other Poems by Robert Frost
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