Robert Frost

[Hannah]

Nia posted this elsewhere, but I wanted to post it here as well and add some of my favourite Robert Frost poems. I like his poems for their rhythmic qualities and his choice of words - Two roads diverged in a yellow wood - doesn't that set a lovely scene and mood right at the start? but I also like that there is much more to his poems than meets the eye. I hope you like him too.
Hannah



The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

[nia]

Hannah, thank you for this page, he is one of my best poets, and here are some more from ROBERT FROST

with my love,
nia

 

My Butterfly

Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too,
And the daft sun-assaulter, he
That frightened thee so oft, is fled or dead:
Saave only me
(Nor is it sad to thee!)
Save only me
There is none left to mourn thee in the fields.

The gray grass is scarce dappled with the snow;
Its two banks have not shut upon the river;
But it is long ago--
It seems forever--
Since first I saw thee glance,
WIth all thy dazzling other ones,
In airy dalliance,
Precipitate in love,
Tossed, tangled, whirled and whirled above,
Like a linp rose-wreath in a fairy dance.

When that was, the soft mist
Of my regret hung not on all the land,
And I was glad for thee,
And glad for me, I wist.

Thou didst not know, who tottered, wandering on high,
That fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind,
With those great careless wings,
Nor yet did I.

And there were othe rthings:
It seemed God let thee flutter from his gentle clasp:
Then fearful he had let thee win
TOo far beyond him to be gathered in,
Santched thee, o'ereager, with ungentle gasp.

Ah! I remember me
How once conspiracy was rife
Against my life--
The languor of it and the dreaming fond;
Surging, the grasses dizzied me of thought,
The breeze three odors brought,
And a gem-flower waved in a wand!

Then when I was distraught
And could not speak,
Sidelong, full on my cheek,
What should that reckless zephyr fling
But the wild touch of thy dye-dusty wing!

I found that wing broken today!
For thou art dead, I said,
And the strang birds say.
I found it with the withered leaves
Under the eaves.


Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

[Hannah]

Two lovely choices, Nia. 



To the Thawing Wind

Come with rain. O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
make the settled snowbank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate'er you do tonight,
bath my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit's crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o'er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.


This following poem could have been written today!


God's Garden

God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: "To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end."

Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.

O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.




Robert Frost: The Man and His Work - 1923

"Sometimes I have my doubts of words altogether, and I ask myself what is the place of them. They are worse than nothing unless they do something; unless they amount to deeds, as in ultimatums or battle-cries. They must be flat and final like the show-down in poker, from which there is no appeal. My definition of poetry (if I were forced to give one) would be this: words that become deeds."

"All poetry is a reproduction of the tones of actual speech."

"There are two types of realists: the one who offers a good deal of dirt with his potato to show that it is a real one, and the one who is satisfied with the potato brushed clean. I'm inclined to be the second kind. To me, the thing that art does for life is to clean it, to strip it to form"

"A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a home-sickness or a love-sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found the words."

Isn't he an interesting person?
Hannah

[nia]

Hannah, yes you are so right, how nice to read these poems today, he was great poet and also I loved his quotes too, so right and so nice... thank you for posting here, these are inspirations for us too,

with my love,
nia

[Hannah]

this runs a close second for my favourite Robert Frost. I think it means even more to me now that I am getting closer to 'Age'.     I love the way this poem 'skips' along, with a child-like feel but a deeper journey to travel at the same time.

Carpe Diem

Age saw two quiet children
Go loving by at twilight,
He knew not whether homeward,
Or outward from the village,
Or (chimes were ringing) churchward,
He waited, (they were strangers)
Till they were out of hearing
To bid them both be happy.
"Be happy, happy, happy,
And seize the day of pleasure."
The age-long theme is Age's.
'Twas Age imposed on poems
Their gather-roses burden
To warn against the danger
That overtaken lovers
From being overflooded
With happiness should have it.
And yet not know they have it.
But bid life seize the present?
It lives less in the present
Than in the future always,
And less in both together
Than in the past. The present
Is too much for the senses,
Too crowding, too confusing-
Too present to imagine.

[nia]

"It lives less in the present
Than in the future always,
And less in both together
Than in the past. The present
Is too much for the senses,
Too crowding, too confusing-
Too present to imagine."

The present
is too much for the senses,
too crowding, too confusing,
too present to imagine....

Hannah, this is wonderful, I didn't read this one before... Thank you,

with my love,
nia

[Hannah]

Nia,
I agree. There are some wonderful images and truths in this poem. And we all need to learn to 'seize the day' - probably in line with Buddhist philosophy also. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I have more of his work to post, too.
Hannah

[islandpoet]

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though.
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer,
To stop without a farmhouse near,
Between the woods and frozen lake,
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake,
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep,
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

         -- Robert Frost

Talking about Mr. Frost, this poem shouldnt go unmentioned. One of the most "perfect" poems ever written. the last 2 lines are very intriguing. A poem that seems so simple on the surface but holds a strong undercurrent of beauty, life and death.

[Bonnie]

Hi Islandpoet, I totally agree with you on this one. I heard those two lines used in a movie that starred Charles Bronson, they were the code that woke sleeper agents. I had to go and refresh my memory about that poem and bought the whole anthology. 
Bonnie  S::x

[Hannah]

Thanks for posting this one, IslandPoet. It's a gem. I don't know if I remember that Charles Bronson film Bonnie mentioned, though, but I can see one of the characters he used to play using such a line. My favourite Frost poem can change with my mood. There is plenty to like about his work. I'm glad he is proving as popular as he is here. 
Hannah

[Ivy]

This is my favourite poem by Robert Frost. It has also been used in the book/movie by S.E.Hinton called The Outsiders.

Nothing gold can stay

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower
But only so an hour
Then leaf subsides to leaf
So Edan sank to grief
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay

[Hannah]

Ivy
This is definitely one of Frost's best poems. It is so succinct, yet incredibly powerful. The book you mentioned, The Outsiders, was also a powerful book. It is astonishing that Hinton was only 17 when she wrote it. I have a friend, now in his 60s, who did something stupid as a teenager and spent time in prison. He's an ardent fan of Hinton's books, even though they're mostly aimed at young adults, because there are so many truths in them which he relates to. Thanks for posting this Frost poem. 
Hannah

[lkmarshall]

House Fear          by Robert Frost

Always--I tell  you this they learned--
Always at night when they returned
To the lonely house from far away,
To lamps unlighted and fire gone gray,
They learned to rattle the lock and key
To give whatever might chance to be,
Warning and time to be off in flight:
And preferring the out- to the indoor night,
They learned to leave the house door wide
Until they had lit the lamp inside.

lkm