This is an original observation of mine. It was so cold at his home in New Hampshire, that there was Frost on his mailbox, year round!
Poetry Foundation Robert Frost 1874—1963 "Robert Frost was born in San Francisco, but his family moved to Lawrence, Massachusetts, in 1884 following his father’s death. The move was actually a return, for Frost’s ancestors were originally New Englanders, and Frost became famous for his poetry’s engagement with New England locales, identities, and themes. Frost graduated from Lawrence High School, in 1892, as class poet (he also shared the honor of co-valedictorian with his wife-to-be Elinor White), and two years later, the New York Independent accepted his poem entitled “My Butterfly,” launching his status as a professional poet with a check for $15.00. Frost's first book was published around the age of 40, but he would go on to win a record four Pulitzer Prizes and become the most famous poet of his time, before his death at the age of 88." READ MORE
Carl Sandburg was a contemporary of Robert Frost. Sandburg said: :"If you have to explain it, it's not poetry." January 30, 1963 A Poet of Rural Spirit By THOMAS LASK "For many years Robert Frost and Carl Sandburg were the official but scarcely unrecognized poet laureates in the United States. Each was widely known. Each enjoyed the affection of the American people, not only, it should be said, of readers of poetry. Each gave life to an aspect of the American democratic tradition." "The parallels end there, however. Sandburg gloried in industrial America, found the individual in the mass, accepted the metropolis as part of the 20th century America. Frost, on the contrary, stood for the single man, aloof, withdrawn, indeed a little fastidious. Sandburg might be seen as the product of a Middle West that was sprawling, vehement, vigorous. Frost was the New Englander, tight-lipped, independent, resolute and not overly friendly." "Technically and spiritually Sandburg is in the tradition of Whitman. Frost claimed to be a disciple of Emerson, but with this large difference: that he did not have quite the confidence in his fellow man that such a heritage should have engendered. Frost valued impulse over reason, transcendental truth over logic. But he did not entirely trust the impulses of other men -- especially in a crowd." READ MORE
Maybe it's just me, but this one doesn't seem like the usual Frost. A typical subject, but worded more like stuffy classical poetry. Third person. It was very early (1913) in his career. I believe they had left the farm and moved to London about that time, because he thought the British would be more receptive to his work. And they were. I'm glad he moved back to the US.
Robert Frost’s poem “The Aim Was Song” was originally published in 1923 in his collection “New Hampshire”. “The Aim Was Song”, Robert Frost
Build Soil, the Frost poem to which the author refers most often, is roughly 300 lines long. It is a conversation between Tityrus the poet and Meliboeus the farmer/shepherd, but Tityrus does most of the talking. It's important to remember this was written in 1932. A few excerpts: Build Soil (1932) The Muse takes care of you. You live by writing Your poems on a farm and call that farming. Oh, I don’t blame you. I say take life easy. I should myself, only I don’t know how. But have some pity on us who have to work. ... Let me preach to you, will you, Meliboeus? Preach on. I thought you were already preaching. But preach and see if I can tell the difference. Tityrus: Suppose someone comes near me who in rate Of speech and thinking is so much my better I am imposed on, silenced and discouraged. Do I submit to being supplied by him As the more economical producer, More wonderful, more beautiful producer? No. I unostentatiously move off Far enough for my thought-flow to resume. Thought product and food product are to me Nothing compared to the producing of them. I sent you once a song with the refrain: ..Let me be the one ..To do what is done— My share at least lest I be empty-idle. Keep off each other and keep each other off. We congregate embracing from distrust As much as love, and too close in to strike And be so very striking. Steal away The song says. Steal away and stay away. Is it a bargain, Shepherd Meliboeus? Probably, but you're far too fast and strong For my mind to keep working in your presence I can tell better after I get home.