Robert Frost’s speaker says a worried goodbye to a young orchard as winter darkness and cold arrive. His concern is both practical and tender: he lists rabbits, mice, deer, and grouse as threats, then admits his real fear is warmth. If a thaw stirs the trees too early, it can harm them more than deep cold, so he warns the orchard to “keep cold” and dreads fifty above more than fifty below. There is wry humor in his impulse to frighten animals off “with a stick for a gun,” but the anxiety is genuine.
He must leave for a season to work among less nurtured, less fruitful trees—maples, birches, and tamaracks—that will be cut for wood. He wishes he could stay awake worrying about the orchard’s slow sink into winter, but accepts that some care must be left to God. The mood is affectionate, lonely, and coldly clear.