Robert Frost

1874-1963 / Male / American
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A Boundless MomentHe halted in the wind, and—what was that / Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost? / He stood there bringing March against his thought,
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A Brook In The CityThe farmhouse lingers, though averse to square / With the new city street it has to wear / A number in. But what about the brook
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A Cliff DwellingThere sandy seems the golden sky / And golden seems the sandy plain. / No habitation meets the eye
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Acquainted With The NightI have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light.
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A Dream PangI had withdrawn in forest, and my song / Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; / And to the forest edge you came one day
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After Apple-PickingMy long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree / Toward heaven still. / And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill
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A Girl’s GardenA neighbor of mine in the village / Likes to tell how one spring / When she was a girl on the farm, she did
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A Hundred CollarsLancaster bore him—such a little town, / Such a great man. It doesn’t see him often / Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead
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An EncounterOnce on the kind of day called “weather ******* / When the heat slowly hazes and the sun / By its own power seems to be undone,
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An Old Man’s Winter NightAll out of doors looked darkly in at him / Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, / That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
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