Robert Frost Poems
|162.||A Cliff Dwelling||1/3/2003|
|163.||Dust Of Snow||1/3/2003|
|164.||The Secret Sits||1/3/2003|
|165.||"In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design||1/13/2003|
|166.||A Line-Storm Song||1/3/2003|
|167.||Fireflies In The Garden||1/3/2003|
|168.||The Silken Tent||1/3/2003|
|172.||An Old Man's Winter Night||1/3/2003|
|173.||A Considerable Speck||1/3/2003|
|174.||After Apple Picking||1/3/2003|
|175.||A Boundless Moment||1/13/2003|
|176.||A Brook In The City||1/13/2003|
|177.||A Patch Of Old Snow||1/3/2003|
|178.||Asking For Roses||1/3/2003|
|180.||A Time To Talk||1/3/2003|
|181.||The Rose Family||1/3/2003|
|182.||A Prayer In Spring||1/3/2003|
|184.||A Minor Bird||1/13/2003|
|186.||A Late Walk||1/3/2003|
|187.||Acquainted With The Night||1/3/2003|
|188.||Nothing Gold Can Stay||1/3/2003|
|189.||Fire And Ice||1/3/2003|
|190.||Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening||1/3/2003|
|191.||The Road Not Taken||1/3/2003|
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 ...
After Apple Picking
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still.
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples; I am drowsing off.
I cannot shake the shimmer from my sight