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''That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Birches (l. 58-59). . .
The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
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''He bestows summer on us and escapes
Before our realizing what we have
To thank him for. He doesn't want our thanks.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "From Plane to Plane."
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''"Well, who begun it?"
That's what at the end of a war
We always say not who won it,
Or what it was foughten for.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Lines Written in Dejection on the Eve of Great Success."
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''It snowed in spring on earth so dry and warm
The flakes could find no landing place to form.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Our Singing Strength."
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''That primitive head
So ambitiously vast,
Yet so rude in its art,
Is as easily read
For the woes of the past
As a clinical chart.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bad Island Easter."
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''"... I'll talk to you, old woman, afterward.
I've got some news that maybe isn't news.
What are they trying to do to me, these two?"''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Housekeeper."
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''They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Sound of Trees."
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But that beginning was wiped out in fear
The day I swung suspended with the grapes,
And was come after like Eurydice
And brought down safely from the upper regions;
And the life I ...
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Wild Grapes."
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''We disparage reason.
But all the time it's what we're most concerned with.
There's will as motor and there's will as brakes.
Reason is, I suppose, the steering gear.''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Masque of Reason."
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''"... You ought to have seen how it looked in the rain,
The fruit mixed with water in layers of leaves,
Like two kinds of jewels, a vision for thieves."''
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Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Blueberries."
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The Need of Being Versed in Country
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The house had gone to bring again
To the midnight sky a sunset glow.
Now the chimney was all of the house that stood,
Like a pistil after the petals go.
The barn opposed across the way,
That would have joined the house in flame
Had it been the will of the wind, was left
To bear forsaken the place's name.
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Poets
