Robert Frost

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

Robert Frost Quotes

  • ''Lancaster bore him such a little town,
    Such a great man. It doesn't see him often
    Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead
    And sends the children down there with their mother
    To run wild in the summer a little wild.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Hundred Collars."
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  • ''He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled,
    That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust,
    But still lies pointed as it plowed the dust.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. A Soldier (l. 1-3). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
  • ''Here are your waters and your watering place.
    Drink and be whole again beyond confusion.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Directive (l. 61-62). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
  • ''"... It's a day's work
    To empty one house of all household goods
    And fill another with 'em fifteen miles away,
    Although you do no more than dump them down."''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "In the Home Stretch."
  • ''States strong enough to do good are but few.
    Their number would seem limited to three.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "No Holy Wars for Them."
  • ''"... Not but I've every reason not to care
    What happens to him if it only takes
    Some of the sanctimonious conceit
    Out of one of those pious scalawags."''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Snow."
  • ''No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Figure a Poem Makes, Collected Poems (1939).
  • ''I know that winter death has never tried
    The earth but it has failed:''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Onset (l. 13-14). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
  • ''Your head so much concerned with outer,
    Mine with inner, weather.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Tree at My Window (l. 15-16). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
  • ''A man? A brute. Naked above the waist,
    He sat there creased and shining in the light,
    Fumbling the buttons in a well-starched shirt.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Hundred Collars."

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Best Poem of Robert Frost

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 ...

Read the full of The Road Not Taken

Out, Out

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.

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