Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Lee Frostwas an American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published in America. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. One of the most popular and critically respected American poets of the twentieth century, Frost was honored frequently...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth26 March 1874
CitySan Francisco, CA
CountryUnited States of America
Let those possess the land, and only those, Who love it with a love so strong and stupid That they may be abused and taken advantage of And made fun of by business, law, and art....
loosely bound By countless silken ties of love and thought To everything on earth the compass round
A man has got to keep his extrication. The important thing is not to get bogged down In what he has to do to earn a living....
Trust him to have his bitter politics Against his unacquaintances the rich Who sleep in houses of their own, though mortgaged. Conservatives, they don't know what to save.
I see for Nature no defeat In one tree's overthrow Or for myself in my retreat For yet another blow.
For hard it is to keep from being King When it's in you and in the situation.
For I thought Epicurus and Lucretius By Nature meant the Whole Goddam Machinery.
Nothing not built with hands of course is sacred. But here is not a question of what's sacred; Rather of what to face or run away from. I'd hate to be a runaway from nature.
There is much in nature against us. But we forget: Take nature altogether since time began, Including human nature, in peace and war, And it must be a little more in favor of man....
The mind-is not the heart. I may yet live, as I know others live, To wish in vain to let go with the mind- Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me That I need learn to let go with the heart.
Some spirit to stand simply forth, Heroic in its nakedness, Against the uttermost of earth....
What are we? Young or new? We must be something.
He thought that I was after him for a feather--- The white one in his tail: like one who takes everything said as personal to himself.
I believe in teaching, but I don’t believe in going to school.