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Robert Frost

Robert Frost

Quantula: On Our Sympathy With The Under Dog

First under up and then again down under,
We watch a circus of revolving dogs
No senator dares in to kick asunder
Lest both should bite him in the toga-togs.

#Americans #PulitzerPrize #1942 #AWitnessTree

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Other works by Robert Frost...
Regatta at Sainte-Adresse, by Claude Monet
Taken Singly: Neither Out Far Nor in Deep

The people along the sand All turn and look one way. They turn their back on the land. They look at the sea all day. As long as it takes to pass
 2
Woman with a Parasol - Madame Monet and Her Son, by Claude Monet
Meeting and Passing

As I went down the hill along the… There was a gate I had leaned at… And had just turned from when I f… As you came up the hill. We met.… We did that day was mingle great a…
 4
Thaw on the Way, by Julius von Klever
Taken Singly: There Are Roughly Zones

We sit indoors and talk of the col… And every gust that gathers streng… Is a threat to the house. But the… We think of the tree. If it never… We’ll know, we say, that this was…
 3
The Runaway

Once when the snow of the year was… We stopped by a mountain pasture t… A little Morgan had one forefoot… The other curled at his breast. H… And snorted at us. And then he ha…
Time Out: To A Moth Seen In Winter

Here’s first a gloveless hand warm… A perch and resting place ’twixt w… Bright-black-eyed silvery creature… The wings not folded in repose, bu… (Who would you be, I wonder, by t…
Dust in the Eyes

If, as they say, some dust thrown… Will keep my talk from getting ove… I’m not the one for putting off th… Let it be overwhelming, off a roof And round a corner, blizzard snow…
Almond blossom, by Vincent van Gogh
Taken Singly: Leaves Compared With Flowers

A tree’s leaves may be ever so goo… So may its bar, so may its wood; But unless you put the right thing… It never will show much flower or… But I may be one who does not car…
In Hardwood Groves

The same leaves over and over agai… They fall from giving shade above To make one texture of faded brown And fit the earth like a leather g… Before the leaves can mount again
Quantula: Assurance

The danger not an inch outside Behind the porthole’s slab of glas… And double ring of fitted brass I trust feels properly defied.
Our Singing Strength

It snowed in spring on earth so dr… The flakes could find no landing p… Hordes spent themselves to make it… And still they failed of any lasti… They made no white impression on t…
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…
Summer, by Max Weber
The Figure a Poem Makes

Abstraction is an old story with the philosophers, but it has been like a new toy in the hands of the artists of our day. Why can’t we have any one quality of poetry we choose by itself...
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The Bonfire

“OH, let’s go up the hill and sca… As reckless as the best of them to… By setting fire to all the brush w… With pitchy hands to wait for rain… Oh, let’s not wait for rain to mak…
Taken Singly: On A Bird Singing In Its Sleep

A bird half wakened in the lunar n… Sang half way through its little i… Partly because it sang but once al… And that from no especial bush’s h… Partly because it sang ventriloqui…
The Hill Wife

Her Word One ought not to have to care So much as you and I Care when the birds come round the… To seem to say good—bye;



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