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ROBERT LEE FROST
(March 26, 1874-January 29, 1963)
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Image courtesy:
Photo by Craig Michaud.
This is the Robert Frost Farm in Derry, New Hampshire.This is
where he lived from 1900-1911.It was at this farm where he wrote
many of his poems including West Running Brook, Tree at my
Window, and Mending Wall. |
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"The
woods are lovely dark and deep,
And I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep"
- Robert Frost |
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Robert Frost, winner of the
Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, was born on 26th March 1874 in San Francisco, California,
USA. The U.S. Congress voted Frost a gold medal "in recognition of his poetry which
has enriched the culture of the United States and the philosophy of the world". Frost
had varied work experience. In early 1890s , he worked in New England as a farmer, an
editor and a school teacher, absorbing the materials that were to form the themes of many
of his most famous poems. His first volume of poetry, A boy's will, appeared in
1913 while his final collection 'In the clearing' appeared in 1962. Frost died on
29th Jan 1963.
Robert Frost's poetry is
identified with New England, particularly the states of Vermont and New Hampshire. Frost
found inspiration for many of his finest poems in the region's landscapes, folkways, and
speech mannerisms. His poetry is noted for its plain language, conventional forms and
graceful style. Many of his earlier poems are as richly developed as his later ones. Frost
is sometimes praised for being direct and a straightforward writer. While he is never
obscure, he cannot always be read easily. His effects, even at their simplest, depend upon
a certain slyness for which the reader must be prepared to. His range of moods in his
poetry is rich and varied. He assumes the role of a puckish, homespun, philosopher in
'Mending Wall'. In such poems as 'Design' and 'Bereft', he responds to the terror and
tragedy of life. He writes soberly of vaguely threatening aspects of nature in 'Come
In' and 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' He wrote:
"My Little horse must
think it queer, To stop without a farmhouse near,
Between teh woods and frozen lake, The darkest evening of the year"
"The witch of the Coo"
is a comic account of the superstitions of rural New England. In 'Home Burial",
it is tragedy centering around a child's death. In "The Hill Wife' Frost
shows the loneliness of a rural existence driving a person insane. Robert Frost often appears to write the kind of
romantic poetry associated with England and the United States in the 1800s. The romantic
poets of 1800s believed people could live in harmony with nature. Frost thought, the
purpose of people and nature are never the same and so nature's meanings can never be
known. Probing for nature's secrets is futile. Humanity's best chance for serenity does
not come from understanding the natural environment but comes from working usefully and
productively amid the external forces of nature. Frost often used the theme of 'Significant
toil' toil by which people are nourished and sustained. This theme appears in such famous
lyrics as 'Birches', 'Apple Picking' and 'Two Tramps in Mud Time'
FEW
QUOTES BY ROBERT FROST
Two roads
diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken
The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts working the moment you get up in
the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your
temper or your self-confidence.
There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fill you with so much quail
shot that you can't move, and the kind that just gives you a little prod
behind and you jump to the skies.
Half the
world is composed of people who have something to say and can't and the
other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.
Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your
temper or your self-confidence.
At bottom the world isn't a joke. We only joke about it to avoid an issue
with someone, to let someone know that we know he's there with his
questions; to disarm him by seeming to have heard and done justice to his
side of the standing argument.
A poem
begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or alovesickness. It is a
reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete
poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found
words.
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Read More
Robert Frost
wrote a new poem entitled "Dedication" for delivery at the inauguration of
John F. Kennedy in 1961, but never read it, because the sun's glare upon the
snow blinded Frost from seeing the text. Instead, he recited "The Gift
Outright" from memory. (find below)
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'Apple Picking'
My
long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep. |
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Frost takes an ordinary experience and
transforms it into a meditative moment. Frost has philosophical
thoughts as apple-picking slides gradually away from merely harvesting
fruit to considering how life has been experienced fully but with some
regrets and mistakes. The reference to winter coming on feels like the
presence of mortalilty. |
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The Gift Outright
By Robert Frost
The land was ours before we were the land's.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England's, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
Such as we were we gave ourselves outright
(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)
To the land vaguely realizing westward,
But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,
Such as she was, such as she would become |
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