Robert Frost – death, Jan. 29, 1963

The Road Not Taken

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

Robert Frost died this date,1/29/1963, in Boston, Massachusetts.

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FROSTY

How fitting was it that Frost penned

Of “snowy evening” at wood’s end.

Or that he loved New England’s cold.

And of its weather often told.

With snow, Frost was a lasting friend.

                – eab, 9/14/11

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Robert Frost – birth, Mar. 26, 1874

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

 

Robert Frost was born this date (3/26/1874) in San Francisco , CA.  He wrote the favorite “The Road Not Taken” and many others poem.  I heard him live on the radio read his poem at John F. Kennedy’s inauguration.

 

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Robert Frost – death, Jan. 29, 1963

“The Road Not Taken”

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

Robert Frost died this date (1/29/1963).  Frost was the most important American poet of the 20^th century.  Though I did not get to see him I did hear him once on the radio.  

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