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Robert Frost

Robert Frost

In Neglect

They leave us so to the way we took, As two in whom them were proved mistaken, That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook, With michievous, vagrant, seraphic look, And try if we cannot feel forsaken.

#Americans #PulitzerPrize #1913 #ABoy'sWill

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Altre opere di Robert Frost...
The Valley’s Singing Day

The sound of the closing outside d… You made no sound in the grass wit… As far as you went from the door,… But you had awakened under the mor… The first song-bird that awakened…
Ten Mills: In Dives’ Dive

It is late at night and still I a… But still I am steady and unaccus… As long as the Declaration guards My right to be equal in number of… It is nothing to me who runs the…
The Soldier

He is that fallen lance that lies… That lies unlifted now, come dew,… But still lies pointed as it ploug… If we who sight along it round the… See nothing worthy to have been it…
Søndermarken Park in winter, by Vilhelm Hammershøi
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I k… His house is in the village, thoug… He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with sn… My little horse must think it quee…
 22
Time Out: November

We saw leaves go to glory, Then almost migratory Go part way down the lane, And then to end the story Get beaten down and pasted
 1
Taken Singly: On Taking From The Top To Broaden The Base

Roll stones down on our head! You squat old pyramid, Your last good avalanche Was long since slid. Your top has sunk too low,
A Prayer in Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flower… And give us not to think so far aw… As the uncertain harvest; keep us… All simply in the springing of the… Oh, gives us pleasure in the orcha…
 1
Dust of Snow

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart
 2
The Times Table

More than halfway up the pass Was a spring with a broken drinkin… And whether the farmer drank or no… His mare was sure to observe the s… By cramping the wheel on a water-b…
The Aim Was Song

Before man to blow to right The wind once blew itself untaught… And did its loudest day and night In any rough place where it caught… Man came to tell it what was wrong…
 1
Gathering Leaves

Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise
 1
The church of Auvers-sur-Oise, seen from the apse, by Vincent Van Gogh
Ghost House

I Dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but the cellar w… And a cellar in which the daylight… And the purple-stemmed wild raspbe…
 1
Waiting Afield at Dusk

What things for dream there are wh… Moving amond tall haycocks lightly… I enter alone upon the stubbled fi… From which the laborers’ voices la… And in the antiphony of afterglow
A Line

The line-storm clouds fly tattered… The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones… And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for…
The Exposed Nest

You were forever finding some new… So when I saw you down on hands a… In the meadow, busy with the new-c… Trying, I thought, to set it up o… I went to show you how to make it…



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