Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)
''All out of doors looked darkly in at himRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. An Old Man's Winter Night (l. 1-3). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.''
''Bounds should be setRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
To ingenuity for being so cruel
In bringing change unheralded on the unready.''
''Free verse leaves out the meter and makes upRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "How Hard It Is to Keep From Being King When It's in You and in the Situation."
For the deficiency by church intoning.
Free verse, so called, is really cherished prose....''
''The land may vary more;Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Neither Out Far nor In Deep (l. 9-12). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
But wherever the truth may be
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea.''
''For brains there is no substitute.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Quandary."
"Unless it's sweetbreads," you suggest
With innuendo I detest.''
''Surely you wouldn't grudge the poor old manRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Death of the Hired Man (l. 51-54). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
Some humble way to save his self-respect.
He added, if you really care to know,
He meant to clear the upper pasture, too.''
''"... We need the interruption of the nightRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Literate Farmer and the Planet Venus."
To ease attention off when overtight,
To break our logic in too long a flight,
And ask us if our premises are right."''
''And yet 'twould seem that what is sungRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Wind and the Rain."
In happy sadness by the young,
Fate has no choice but to fulfill.''
''the OmnibusRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Accidentally on Purpose."
Had no real purpose till it got to us.
Never believe it.''
''Inside the brainRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "An Unstamped Letter in Our Rural Letter Box."
Two memories that long had lain
Now quivered toward each other, lipped
Together, and together slipped;
And for a moment all was plain
That men have thought about in vain.''
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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.