Robert Frost Poems
|124.||But Outer Space||1/3/2003|
|125.||Bond And Free||1/13/2003|
|130.||Asking For Roses||1/3/2003|
|131.||An Old Man's Winter Night||1/3/2003|
|132.||After Apple Picking||1/3/2003|
|133.||Acquainted With The Night||1/3/2003|
|134.||A Time To Talk||1/3/2003|
|135.||A Star In A Stoneboat||1/15/2015|
|137.||A Servant To Servants||1/13/2003|
|139.||A Prayer In Spring||1/3/2003|
|140.||A Patch Of Old Snow||1/3/2003|
|141.||A Minor Bird||1/13/2003|
|142.||A Line-Storm Song||1/3/2003|
|143.||A Late Walk||1/3/2003|
|144.||A Girl's Garden||2/3/2015|
|145.||A Dream Pang||1/3/2003|
|146.||A Considerable Speck||1/3/2003|
|147.||A Cliff Dwelling||1/3/2003|
|148.||A Brook In The City||1/13/2003|
|149.||A Boundless Moment||1/13/2003|
|150.||"In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design||1/13/2003|
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 ...
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.