Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Comments about Robert Frost

  • Logan Reed (3/23/2015 5:27:00 PM)

    His poems are a true work of art. Nobody could replace his poetic genius. Nobody...

    112 person liked.
    101 person did not like.
  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (3/18/2015 8:46:00 PM)

    Robert Frost, some of your poems inspire me.

  • Gina Hayanan (3/15/2015 1:30:00 AM)

    The Road is my favorite poem from Robert Frost. It reminds me how I learn English literature

  • Aysegul Avcu (2/25/2015 6:47:00 AM)

    Nice

  • Zach Showgren Zach Showgren (12/9/2014 4:18:00 PM)

    I love robert frost! ! ! ! ! ! ! a true inspiration

  • Wiley Wildcard Wiley Wildcard (10/30/2014 3:35:00 PM)

    I guess you can say that he is my inspiration to write.

  • Srimayee Ganguly Srimayee Ganguly (10/7/2014 12:42:00 PM)

    whenever I'm exhausted or bored I just grab a copy of his poems that keeps me engrossed in his enchanted world -which is lovely, dark and deep

  • Jennifer Vail (9/22/2014 2:36:00 PM)

    i have a paper due on this author and william williams a compare and contrast paper and i am having a hard time doing so any ideas on this

  • Deniz Atay Deniz Atay (8/29/2014 2:49:00 PM)

    it is impossible not to see the touch and vivid reflection of life in his poetry.. one of the greatest.

  • Zahidah Rabaab (8/2/2014 11:54:00 PM)

    No doubt, from Nature did Robert Frost get his ideas for his poems.

Best Poem of Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

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 ...

Read the full of The Road Not Taken

Out, Out

The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.

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