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"The rain to the wind said,
"You push and I'll pelt.""
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Lodged." |
"The road became a channel running flocks
Of glossy birds like ripples over rocks."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Our Singing Strength." |
"The telescope at one end of his beat,
And at the other end the microscope...."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bear." |
""... John's no threatener
Like some menfolk. No one's afraid of him;
All is, he's made up his mind not to stand
What he has got to stand.""
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Housekeeper." |
"Often he bid me come and have a look
Up the brass barrel, velvet black inside,
At a star quaking in the other end."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Star-Splitter." |
"It is getting dark and time he drew to a house,
But the blizzard blinds him to any house ahead.
The storm gets down his neck in any icy souse
That sucks his breath like a wicked cat in bed."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Willful Homing." |
"Deliver us from committees."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Masque of Reason." |
""Who cares what they say? It's a nice way to live,
Just taking what Nature is willing to give,
Not forcing her hand with harrow and plow.""
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Blueberries." |
"Let's holler and ask him if he won't prescribe
For all humanity a complete rest
From all this wagery. But what's the use
Of asking any sympathy of him?
That class of people don't know what work is...."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "From Plane to Plane." |
"A brush had left a crooked stroke
Of what was either cloud or smoke
From north to south across the blue;
A piercing little star was through."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Looking for a Sunset Bird in Winter." |
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