Robert Frost Quotes
''As for his evil tidings,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bearer of Evil Tidings."
Why hurry to tell Belshazzar
What soon enough he would know?''
''He's got hay down that's been rained on three times.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Housekeeper."
He hoed a little yesterday for me:
I thought the growing things would do him good.
Something went wrong. I saw him throw the hoe
Sky-high with both hands.''
''what we miss we go to him and ask for.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Star-Splitter."
He promptly gives it back, that is if still
Uneaten, unworn out, or undisposed of.''
''But the flower leaned asideRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Wind and Window Flower."
And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
A hundred miles away.''
''Yet I suppose what seems to us confusionRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Masque of Reason."
Is not confusion, but the form of forms,
The serpent's tail stuck down the serpent's throat....''
''"I wish I knew half what the flock of them knowRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Blueberries."
Of where all the berries and other things grow,
Cranberries in bogs and raspberries on top
Of the boulder-strewn mountain, and when they will crop...."''
''The footpath down to the well is healed.''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Ghost House."
''Seeing myself well lost once more, I sighed,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Lost in Heaven."
"Where, where in Heaven am I? But don't tell me!
O opening clouds, by opening on me wide.
Let's let my heavenly lostness overwhelm me."''
''"Don't let him cut my hand offRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. CP-Frost. Out, Out (l. 25-27). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!"
So. But the hand was gone already.''
''The bearer of evil tidings,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bearer of Evil Tidings."
When he was halfway there,
Remembered that evil tidings
Were a dangerous thing to bear.''
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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 ...
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.