Robert Frost

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

The Investment - Poem by Robert Frost

Over back where they speak of life as staying
('You couldn't call it living, for it ain't'),
There was an old, old house renewed with paint,
And in it a piano loudly playing.

Out in the plowed ground in the cold a digger,
Among unearthed potatoes standing still,
Was counting winter dinners, one a hill,
With half an ear to the piano's vigor.

All that piano and new paint back there,
Was it some money suddenly come into?
Or some extravagance young love had been to?
Or old love on an impulse not to care-

Not to sink under being man and wife,
But get some color and music out of life?


Comments about The Investment by Robert Frost

  • (12/26/2016 1:56:00 PM)

    tom allport
    music and paint can make life great (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • (5/7/2016 8:17:00 PM)


    .....wonderful, get some volor and music out of life ★ (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 11, 2016



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