Showing posts with label Robert Frost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Frost. Show all posts

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Robert Frost: "Dust of Snow"




                                                    The way a crow
                                                    Shook down on me
                                                    The dust of snow
                                                    From a hemlock tree

                                                    Has given my heart
                                                    A change of mood
                                                    And saved some part
                                                    Of a day I had rued.



"Dust of Snow" by Robert Frost. from The Voice of the Poet: Robert Frost (Random House Audiobooks, 2003). Text as presented on the Poetry Foundation.

Art credit: Untitled image by unknown photographer.


Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Robert Frost: "October"


O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes' sake along the wall.



"October" by Robert Frost. Published online at this link.

Photography credit: "one autumn leaf hanging on," by Leo Reynolds (originally color).




Sunday, August 11, 2013

Robert Frost: "A Time to Talk"


When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, "What is it?"
No, not as there is time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.




"A Time to Talk" by Robert Frost, from Mountain Interval. © Henry Holt, 1916.

Photography credit: "Rusty Hoe Leaning Against Stone Masonry Wall," by unknown photographer (originally color).