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
Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these She a window flower And he a winter breeze ...
Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.
We love things we love what they are.
This as it will be seen is other far / Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song. / We love the things we love for what they are.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound By countless silken ties of love and thought To everything on earth the compass round, And only by one's going slightly taut In the capriciousness of summer air Is of the slightest bondage made aware.
Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air.
Suddenly, quietly, you realize that - from this moment forth - you will no longer walk through this life alone. Like a new sun this awareness arises within you, freeing you from fear, opening your life. It is the beginning of love, and the end of all that came before.
Every poem is a momentary stay against the confusion of the world.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better.
And were an epitaph to be my story I'd have a short one ready for my own. I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world.
Love is an irresistable desire to be irresistably desired." "Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom.
A poet never takes notes. You never take notes in a love affair.
Ends and beginnings—there are no such things. There are only middles.