Poems of Robert Frost that define life
Through his poems he spoke at large about the village life of the America
An American poet, Robert Lee Frost is known for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His poems are frequently written with settings from rural life in New England of the early 20th century. But interestingly his work was initially published in England before it was even published in the United States. Through his poems and the 20th-century setting, Frost examined the complex social and philosophical themes and so his poems inspired a disagreement or, at least, discussion around the topics that mattered to him.
All throughout his lifetime, Frost was honored frequently and is in fact the only poet to have received four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. He went on to become one of America’s rare “public literary figures, almost an artistic institution.” In 1961, Frost was named poet laureate of Vermont. So here are a few extracts from his famous poems that will leave you inspired.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.