In “Acceptance,” Frost begins with a spent sun throwing its last rays onto cloud and burning down into a dark gulf. The striking thing is the silence: no voice in nature cries out against the change. Birds notice the dusk—one quietly closes a fading eye, another hurries low to reach a remembered tree. That bird’s reaction is not fear or protest but a soft “Safe!” It asks only to reach shelter, then lets the darkness come. The speaker seems moved by this small surrender. The mood is still, dim, and a little somber, yet not despairing. What remains is the final line’s release: “Let what will be, be.” Acceptance here means refusing to demand light or a clear view of the future, and finding enough comfort in the present roost.
Acceptance — Summary
When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud And goes down burning into the gulf below, No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud At what has happened. Birds, at least, must know It is the change to darkness in the sky. Murmuring something quiet in her breast, One bird begins to close a faded eye; Or overtaken too far from his nest, Hurrying low above the grove, some waif Swoops just in time to his remembered tree. At most he thinks or twitters softly, ‘Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. Let the night be too dark for me to see Into the future. Let what will be, be.’