Site hosted by Build your free website today!

Robert Frost Poems

Now I out walking
The world desert,
And my shoe and my stocking
Do me no hurt.
I leave behind
Good friends in town.
Let them get well-wined
And go lie down.
Don't think I leave
For the outer dark
Like Adam and Eve
Put out of the Park
Forget the myth
There is no one I
Am put out with
Or put out by.
Unless I'm wrong
I but obey
The urge of a song:
And I may return
If dissatisfied
With what I learn
From having died.
By Robert Frost
I going from room to room in the dark
I reached out blindly to save my face,
But neglected, however lightly, to lace
My fingers and close my arms in an arc.
A slim door got past my guard,
And hit me a blow in the head so hard
I had my native simile jarred.
So people and things don't pair anymore
With what they used to pair with before.
By Robert Frost
With a lantern that wouldn’t burn
In too frail a buggy we drove
Behind too heavy a horse
Through a pith-dark limitless grove.
And a man came out of the trees
And took our horse by the head
And reaching back to his rids
Deliberately stabbed him dead.
The ponderous beast went down
With a crack of a broken shaft.
And the night drew through the trees
In one long invidious draft.
The most unquestioning pair
That ever accepted fate
And the least disposed to ascribe
Any more than we had to hate.
We assume the man himself
Or someone he had to obey
Wanted us to get down
And walk the rest of the way.
By Robert Frost