AFTER APPLE PICKING

BY ROBERT FROST

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree

Toward heaven still,

And there's a barrel that I didn't fill

Beside it, and there may be two or three

Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.

But I am done with apple-picking now.

Essence of winter sleep is on the night,

The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.

I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight

I got from looking through a pane of glass

I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough

And held against the world of hoary grass.

It melted, and I let it fall and break.

But I was well

Upon my way to sleep before it fell,

And I could tell

What form my dreaming was about to take.

Magnified apples appear and disappear,

Stem end and blossom end,

And every fleck of russet showing clear.

My instep arch not only keeps the ache,

It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.

I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.

And I keep hearing from the cellar bin

The rumbling sound

Of load on load of apples coming in.

For I have had too much

Of apple-picking: I am overtired

Of the great harvest I myself desired.

There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,

Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.

For all

That struck the earth,

No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,

Went surely to the cider-apple heap

As of no worth.

One can see what will trouble

This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.

Were he not gone,

The woodchuck could say whether it's like his

Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,

Or just some human sleep.

After Apple Picking

-Robert Frost

This is a pastoral poem that appeared in Frost’s volume of poems called ‘North of Boston’. This nature lyric presents and experience in daily life in simple and casual way. It describes the experience of the Apple-Picker who has been working throughout the day. It reveals his sense of fatigue and fulfilment he felt after a day’s work.

The Apple-Picker has been working has been working throughout the day with his long two-pointed ladder. Now it is kept sticking on a tree with its pointed ends towards the sky. He can still see the unpicked Apples on the trees. But he is tired now. He has no mood of picking Apples any further.

But I am done with Apple-Picking now

. . . I am drowsing off.

The smell of the Apples makes him drowsy. He yearns for a winter sleep like the birds. His thinking gets confused. He gets a thought about the pane of glass which he broke on that morning. He dreams about the Apple Picking which he did from morning to evening. Big apples appear and disappear in his dream.

What from my dreaming was about to take

Magnified apples appear and disappear

The poet in his dream can feel the touch of the Apples, he picked. The instep arch in his feet can feel the touch of the ladder and the swaying of the ladder among the branches. He can hear the rumbling sound of the loads of Apples added in the cellar bind. He feels satisfied about the year’s harvest. He has collected nearly ten thousand apples and does not worry about the wasted ones. The poem ends with a complete satisfaction of the poet. So the poet plans to have a winter sleep as wood chuck enjoys its ‘long sleep’. He wonders whether his sleep is like the long hibernating sleep of animals or something human.

Thus the fact and fancy get intermingled in the poem. The poem appeals to the five senses. It is similar to the poem of Keats. In ode to ‘Autumn’ Keats reminds us the fume of poppies which is drowsy. Here the scent of apples produces the drowsing effect.