Robert Lee Frost "Mr. Frost rose from his chair and felt his stiff cold muscles protest as he began the walk to the podium. He clutched the sheets of paper he was carrying tightly in his hand, as the strong breeze tried to rip them from his grasp. His other hand rose to shield his eyes from the brilliant glare caused by the afternoon sun reflecting off the newly fallen snow.* Frost placed the papers on the podium, taking time to anchor down the edges with his hands. He adjusted his glasses and in a nervous voice began to speak. He lowered his eyes to the page, squinted and raised a hand to adjust his glasses again. The glare from the sun was making it hard to see the words on the paper." "Summing---Summoning artists to participate In the august occasions of the state Seems something for us all to celebrate. And---And today is for my cause a day of days. And his be poetry's old-fashioned praise Who was the one---Who was the first to think of such a thing. This tribute---for to---to be his that here I bring Is about---." "There was uneasy silence as Mr. Frost stared down at his papers. Finally he said, "No, I'm not having a good light here at all" . And then, "I can't see in the sun". The vice president rose and used his top hat to try to shield the papers from the sun. When this was unsuccessful Frost came to the conclusion that he would be unable to read the poem "Dedication." Then he spoke to the assembled audience, "I think I'll say, this was to be a preface to the poem I can say to you without seeing it." This caused a burst of laughter as Mr. Frost proceeded to recite "The Gift Outright" to the audience." (Read More)
The Need of Being Versed in Country Things Robert Frost The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the house that stood, Like a pistil after the petals go. The barn opposed across the way, That would have joined the house in flame Had it been the will of the wind, was left To bear forsaken the place’s name. No more it opened with all one end For teams that came by the stony road To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs And brush the mow with the summer load. The birds that came to it through the air At broken windows flew out and in, Their murmur more like the sigh we sigh From too much dwelling on what has been. Yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf, And the aged elm, though touched with fire; And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm; And the fence post carried a strand of wire. For them there was really nothing sad. But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, One had to be versed in country things Not to believe the phoebes wept.
"But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, One had to be versed in country things Not to believe the phoebes wept."
(I like this one, but prefer not to overthink it, like the experts do. They say it's a sonnet. ) NEVER AGAIN WOULD BIRD'S SONG BE THE SAME Robert Frost He would declare and could himself believe That the birds there in all the garden round From having heard the daylong voice of Eve Had added to their own an oversound, Her tone of meaning but without the words. Admittedly an eloquence so soft Could only have had an influence on birds When call or laughter carried it aloft. Be that as may be, she was in their song. Moreover her voice upon their voices crossed Had now persisted in the woods so long That probably it would never be lost. Never again would birds' song be the same. And to do that to birds was why she came. .
Robert Frost was one of only a few poets who actually made me think there might be some purpose in poetry.
It might be the teacher part of me poking through, but if you enjoy Robert Frost, go here: https://learnodo-newtonic.com/famous-american-poets and read one poem each. If you do that, go to W. H. Auden and W. B. Yates, two UK greats. In fact, you might start here: https://poets.org/poem/memory-w-b-yeats. Some of our poets are our greatest thinkers.