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Robert Frost

Robert Frost

Ten Mills: Not All There

I turned to speak to God
About the world’s despair;
But to make bad matters worse
I found God wasn’t there.
 
God turned to speak to me
(Don’t anybody laugh)
God found I wasn’t there—
At least not over half.

#Americans #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1936 #AFurtherRange

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Other works by Robert Frost...
The Oft

She had no saying dark enough For the dark pine that kept Forever trying the window latch Of the room where they slept. The tireless but ineffectual hands
The Impulse

It was too lonely for her there, And too wild, And since there were but two of th… And no child, And work was little in the house,
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Two Or More: The Lesson For Today

If this uncertain age in which we… Were really as dark as I hear sag… And I convinced that they were re… I should not curse myself with it… But leaving not the chair I long…
The Last Mowing

There’s a place called Far-away M… We never shall mow in again, Or such is the talk at the farmhou… The meadow is finished with men. Then now is the chance for the flo…
"Out, Out—"

The buzz—saw snarled and rattled i… And made dust and dropped stove—le… Sweet—scented stuff when the breez… And from there those that lifted e… Five mountain ranges one behind th…
 1
The Cow in Apple Time

Something inspires the only cow of… To make no more of a wall than an… And think no more of wall—builders… Her face is flecked with pomace an… A cider syrup. Having tasted frui…
Acceptance

When the spent sun throws up its r… And goes down burning into the gul… No voice in nature is heard to cry… At what has happened. Birds, at l… It is the change to darkness in th…
 2
A Line-storm Song

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…
Blueberries

“You ought to have seen what I sa… To the village, through Mortenson… Blueberries as big as the end of y… Real sky-blue, and heavy, and read… In the cavernous pail of the first…
 2
 2
The Grindstone

Having a wheel and four legs of it… Has never availed the cumbersome g… To get it anywhere that I can see… These hands have helped it go, and… Not all the motion, though, they e…
The Sound of the Trees

I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place?
 2
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…
 23
Stars

How countlessly they congregate O’er our tumultuous snow, Which flows in shapes as tall as t… When wintry winds do blow!— As if with keenness for our fate,
The Housekeeper

I let myself in at the kitchen doo… ‘It’s you,' she said. 'I can’t ge… Not answering your knock. I can n… Let people in than I can keep the… I’m getting too old for my size,…
Wind and Window Flower

Lovers, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil



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