Search Results for: poets

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Reluctance Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended. The leaves are all dead on the ground, […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems My Butterfly Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too, And the daft sun-assaulter, he That frighted thee so oft, is fled or dead: Save only me (Nor is it sad to thee!) Save only me There is none left to mourn thee in the fields. The gray grass is […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems October O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; To-morrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; To-morrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow, Make the […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems A Line-storm Song The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift, The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee, Expend their bloom in vain. Come over the hills and far with me, […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Now Close the Windows Now close the windows and hush all the fields; If the trees must, let them silently toss; No bird is singing now, and if there is, Be it my loss. It will be long ere the marshes resume, It will be long ere the earliest […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems The Demiurge’s Laugh It was far in the sameness of the wood; I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail, Though I knew what I hunted was no true god. It was just as the light was beginning to fail That I suddenly heard—all I needed to hear: […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Pan with Us Pan came out of the woods one day,— His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray, The gray of the moss of walls were they,— And stood in the sun and looked his fill At wooded valley and wooded hill. He stood in the […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Spoils of the Dead Two fairies it was On a still summer day Came forth in the woods With the flowers to play. The flowers they plucked They cast on the ground For others, and those For still others they found. Flower-guided it was That they came as they […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems The Tuft of Flowers I went to turn the grass once after one Who mowed it in the dew before the sun. The dew was gone that made his blade so keen Before I came to view the leveled scene. I looked for him behind an isle of trees; […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems In Equal Sacrifice Thus of old the Douglas did: He left his land as he was bid With the royal heart of Robert the Bruce In a golden case with a golden lid, To carry the same to the Holy Land; By which we see and understand That that […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems The Trial by Existence Even the bravest that are slain Shall not dissemble their surprise On waking to find valor reign, Even as on earth, in paradise; And where they sought without the sword Wide fields of asphodel fore’er, To find that the utmost reward Of daring should be […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Revelation We make ourselves a place apart Behind light words that tease and flout, But oh, the agitated heart Till someone find us really out. ‘Tis pity if the case require (Or so we say) that in the end We speak the literal to inspire The understanding of a […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Going for Water The well was dry beside the door, And so we went with pail and can Across the fields behind the house To seek the brook if still it ran; Not loth to have excuse to go, Because the autumn eve was fair (Though chill), because the […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems The Vantage Point If tired of trees I seek again mankind, Well I know where to hie me—in the dawn, To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn. There amid lolling juniper reclined, Myself unseen, I see in white defined Far off the homes of men, and farther […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems In Neglect They leave us so to the way we took, As two in whom they were proved mistaken, That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook, With mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look, And try if we cannot feel forsaken.   Buy How to Write a Poem Now! About Robert […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems A Dream Pang I had withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and looked and pondered long, But did not enter, though the wish was strong: You shook your […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems In a Vale When I was young, we dwelt in a vale By a misty fen that rang all night, And thus it was the maidens pale I knew so well, whose garments trail Across the reeds to a window light. The fen had every kind of bloom, And […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Waiting Afield at Dusk What things for dream there are when spectre-like, Moving among tall haycocks lightly piled, I enter alone upon the stubble field, From which the laborers’ voices late have died, And in the antiphony of afterglow And rising full moon, sit me down Upon the full […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Asking for Roses A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, With doors that none but the wind ever closes, Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster; It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses. I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary; ‘I wonder,’ […]

< Return to Robert Frost Poems Rose Pogonias A saturated meadow, Sun-shaped and jewel-small, A circle scarcely wider Than the trees around were tall; Where winds were quite excluded, And the air was stifling sweet With the breath of many flowers,— A temple of the heat. There we bowed us in the burning, As the […]