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Robert Frost

Robert Frost

A Patch of Old Snow

There’s a patch of old snow in a corner
 That I should have guessed
Was a blow—away paper the rain
 Had brought to rest.
 
It is speckled with grime as if
 Small print overspread it,
The news of a day I’ve forgotten—
 If I ever read it.

#1916 #AmericanWriters #MountainInterval

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The Forest in Winter at Sunset, by Théodore Rousseau
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Out alone in the winter rain, Intent on giving and taking pain. But never was I far out of sight Of a certain upper-window light. The light was what it was all abou…
Taken Singly: The Strong Are Saying Nothing

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Taken Singly: Desert Places

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My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she’s here with m… Thinks these dark days of autumn r… Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered t… She walks the sodden pasture lane.
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I love to toy with the Platonic n… That wisdom need not be of Athens… But well may be Laconic, even Boe… At least I will not have it syste…
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When I got up through the mowing… The headless aftermath, Smooth-laid like thatch with the h… Half closes the garden path. And when I come to the garden gro…
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Over Back: The Literate Farmer And The Planet Venus

My unexpected knocking at the door Started chairs thundering on the k… Knives and forks ringing on the su… Voices conflicting like the candid… A mighty farmer flung the house do…
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Mary sat musing on the lamp—flame… Waiting for Warren. When she hear… She ran on tip—toe down the darken… To meet him in the doorway with th… And put him on his guard. “Silas…
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The play seems out for an almost i… Don’t mind a little thing like the… The only I worry about is the sun… We’ll be all right if nothing goes…



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