Robert Frost Quotes
''"... Me? I'm not off for anywhere at all.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "An Encounter."
Sometimes I wander out of beaten ways
Half looking for the orchid Calypso."''
''Thought product and food product are to meRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
Nothing compared to the producing of them.''
''"... It is not the stones,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Home Burial."
But the child's mound ..."
"Don't, don't, don't,
don't," she cried.''
''Since ever they flung abroad in springRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Misgiving."
The leaves had promised themselves this flight,
Who now would fain seek sheltering wall,
Or thicket, or hollow place for the night.''
''The milkweed brings up to my very doorRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Pod of the Milkweed."
The theme of wanton waste in peace and war....''
''They were not on the table with their elbows.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Census-Taker."
They were not sleeping in the shelves of bunks.
I saw no men there and no bones of men there.''
''Memento mori and obey the Lord.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Lesson for Today."
Art and religion love the somber chord.''
''A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had sparedRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Tuft of Flowers (l. 23-28). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.
The mower in the dew had loved them thus,
By leaving them to flourish, not for us,
Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him,
But from sheer morning gladness at the brim.''
''We stood a moment so, in a strange world,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Boundless Moment."
Myself as one his own pretense deceives;
And then I said the truth (and we moved on).
A young beech clinging to its last year's leaves.''
''And when we get too far apart in wealth,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "An Equalizer."
'Twas his idea that for the public health,
So that the poor won't have to steal by stealth,
We now and then should take an equalizer.''
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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.