{"id":984,"date":"2013-11-10T20:57:10","date_gmt":"2013-11-11T04:57:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/?p=984"},"modified":"2017-09-06T14:38:12","modified_gmt":"2017-09-06T21:38:12","slug":"1110","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2013\/11\/10\/1110\/","title":{"rendered":"1110"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone\" src=\"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/images\/112013\/1110.png\" \/><\/p>\n<p>1110<br \/>\nWalk me out in the morning dew<\/p>\n<p><strong>There Will Come Soft Rains<\/strong><br \/>\nBy Sara Teasdale<\/p>\n<p>There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,<br \/>\nAnd swallows circling with their shimmering sound;<br \/>\nAnd frogs in the pools, singing at night,<br \/>\nAnd wild plum trees in tremulous white,<br \/>\nRobins will wear their feathery fire,<br \/>\nWhistling their whims on a low fence-wire;<br \/>\nAnd not one will know of the war, not one<br \/>\nWill care at last when it is done.<br \/>\nNot one would mind, neither bird nor tree,<br \/>\nIf mankind perished utterly;<br \/>\nAnd Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,<br \/>\nWould scarcely know that we were gone.<\/p>\n<button id=\"listenButton1\" class=\"responsivevoice-button\" type=\"button\" value=\"Play\" title=\"ResponsiveVoice Tap to Start\/Stop Speech\"><span>&#128266; Listen to Poem<\/span><\/button>\n        <script>\n            listenButton1.onclick = function(){\n                if(responsiveVoice.isPlaying()){\n                    responsiveVoice.cancel();\n                }else{\n                    responsiveVoice.speak(\"1110 Walk me out in the morning dew There Will Come Soft Rains By Sara Teasdale There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools, singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.\", \"US English Female\");\n                }\n            };\n        <\/script>\n    \n\n<div class=\"twitter-share\"><a href=\"https:\/\/twitter.com\/intent\/tweet?via=stickpersonpoet\" class=\"twitter-share-button\">Tweet<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>1110 Walk me out in the morning dew There Will Come Soft Rains By Sara Teasdale There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools, singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins will wear their feathery fire, &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2013\/11\/10\/1110\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">1110<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[51,50],"class_list":["post-984","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-classic","tag-animals","tag-weather"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/984"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=984"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/984\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":985,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/984\/revisions\/985"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=984"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=984"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=984"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}