In a short fable-like scene, the rain and wind work together to punish a garden bed, lashing the flowers until they “actually knelt” and lay flattened. Frost makes the storm feel personal: the rain speaks to the wind, and the two forces conspire rather than simply falling as weather. The flowers are battered but not destroyed—“though not dead”—and that distinction matters. The final line, “I know how the flowers felt,” turns the scene from nature description into a quiet confession. The speaker has also been knocked down by circumstances, forced to bow or lie low, yet still alive. The mood is subdued but not despairing. There is empathy for the flowers, a sense of shared vulnerability, and a flicker of endurance. Being lodged or laid low, Frost implies, is not the same as being finished.
Lodged — Summary
The rain to the wind said ‘You push and I’ll pelt.’ They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged--though not dead. I know how the flowers felt.