Robert Frost Poems

  • 51.  
    Grief may have thought it was grief.
    Care may have thought it was care.They were welcome to their belief,
  • 52.  
    Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day,
    I paused and said, “I will turn back from here.No, I will go on farther-and we shall see.”
  • 53.  
    If tires 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.
  • 54.  
    He is said to have been the last Red man
    In Acton. And the Miller is said to have laughed-If you like to call such a sound a laugh.
  • 55.  
    I went to turn the grass once after one
    Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.
  • 56.  
    Even the bravest that are slain
    Shall not dissemble their surpriseOn waking to find valor reign,
  • 57.  
    ‘When I was just as far as I could walk
    From here today,There was an hour
  • 58.  
    ‘You know Orion always comes up sideways.
    Throwing a leg up over our fence of mountains,And rising on his hands, he looks in on me
  • 59.  
    The old dog barks backwards without getting up.
    I can remember when he was a pup.
  • 60.  
    I wonder about the trees.
    Why do we wish to bearForever the noise of these
  • 61.  
    He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled,
    That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust,But still lies pointed as it ploughed the dust.
  • 62.  
    She is as in a field a silken tent
    At midday when the sunny summer breezeHas dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
  • 63.  
    “Willis, I didn't want you here to-day:
    The lawyer's coming for the company.I'm going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet.
  • 64.  
    The rose is a rose,
    And was always a rose.But the theory now goes
  • 65.  
    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
    And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stood
  • 66.  
    I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
    I'll only stop to rake the leaves away(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
  • 67.  
    There is a singer eveyone has heard,
    Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
  • 68.  
    The house had gone to bring again
    To the midnight sky a sunset glow.Now the chimney was all of the house that stood,
  • 69.  
    The mountain held the town as in a shadow
    I saw so much before I slept there once:I noticed that I missed stars in the west,
  • 70.  
    It went many years,
    But at last came a knock,And I thought of the door
  • 71.  
    Here come the line-gang pioneering by,
    They throw a forest down less cut than broken.They plant dead trees for living, and the dead
  • 72.  
    I let myself in at the kitchen door.
    “It's you,” she said. “I can't get up. Forgive meNot answering your knock. I can no more
  • 73.  

  • 74.  
    There overtook me and drew me in
    To his down-hill, early-morning stride,And set me five miles on my road
  • 75.  
    A governor it was proclaimed this time,
    When all who would come seeking in New HampshireAncestral memories might come together.
  • 76.  
    The fisherman's swapping a yarn for a yarn
    Under the hand of the village barber,And her in the angle of house and barn
  • 77.  
    A lantern light from deeper in the barn
    Shone on a man and woman in the doorAnd threw their lurching shadows on a house
  • 78.  
    You were forever finding some new play.
    So when I saw you down on hands and kneesI the meadow, busy with the new-cut hay,
  • 79.  
    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.
  • 80.  
    Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
    Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage
  • 81.  
    Something inspires the only cow of late
    To make no more of a wall than an open gate,And think no more of wall-builders than fools.
  • 82.  
    There were three in the meadow by the brook
    Gathering up windrows, piling cocks of hay,With an eye always lifted toward the west
  • 83.  
    “Oh, let's go up the hill and scare ourselves,
    As reckless as the best of them to-night,By setting fire to all the brush we piled
  • 84.  
    We chanced in passing by that afternoon
    To catch it in a sort of special pictureAmong tar-banded ancient cherry trees,
  • 85.  
    The bear puts both arms around the tree above her
    And draws it down as if it were a loverAnd its chokecherries lips to kiss good-by,
  • 86.  
    For every parcel I stoop down to seize
    I lose some other off my arms and knees,And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns-
  • 87.  
    Before man came to blow it right
    The wind once blew itself untaught,And did its loudest day and night
  • 88.  
    When the wind works against us in the dark,
    And pelts with snow The lowest chamber window on the east,
  • 89.  
    Whose woods these are I think I know.
    His house is in the village, though;He will not see me stopping here
  • 90.  
    How countlessly they congregate
    O'er our tumultuous snow,Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
  • 91.  
    These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
    The total sky almost without defect,And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
  • 92.  
    Two fairies it was
    On a still summer dayCame forth in the woods
  • 93.  
    The three stood listening to a fresh access
    Of wind that caught against the house a moment,Gulped snow, and then blew free again-the Coles
  • 94.  
    A saturated meadow,
    Sun-shaped and jewel-small,A circle scarcely wider
  • 95.  
    We make ourselves a place apart
    Behind light words that tease and flout,But oh, the agitated heart
  • 96.  
    Out through the fields and the woods
    And over the walls I have wended;I have climbed the hills of view
  • 97.  
    The battle rent a cobweb diamond-strung
    And cut a flower beside a ground bird's nestBefore it stained a single human breast.
  • 98.  
    You come to fetch me from my work to-night
    When supper's on the table, and we'll seeIf I can leave off burying the white
  • 99.  
    The witch that came (the withered hag)
    To wash the steps with pail and rag,Was once the beauty Abishag,
  • 100.  
    A plow, they say, to plow the snow.
    They cannot mean to plant it, no-Unless in bitterness to mock
Total 173 poems written by Robert Frost

Poem of the day

Charles Hamilton Sorley Poem
 by Charles Hamilton Sorley

There where the rusty iron lies,
The rooks are cawing all the day.
Perhaps no man, until he dies,
Will understand them, what they say.

The evening makes the sky like clay.
The slow wind waits for night to rise.
The world is half content. But they

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