Nativity–Robert Frost
Robert Frost is one of America’s most celebrated poets who was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco, California, and passed away on January 29, 1963, in Boston, Massachusetts.
Frost is best known for his vivid depictions of rural New England life and his masterful use of everyday American language. Through his poetry, he explored themes of nature, individuality, and the complexities of human existence. His profound yet accessible work earned him widespread acclaim including four Pulitzer Prizes.
Works
- Robert Frost’s poetry frequently explores three key themes Love, Nature, and Society.
- Among his notable love poems are “Love and a Question,” “Fire and Ice,” “Reluctance,” and “Wind and Window Flower.”
- Despite their brevity his poems are rich in meaning leaving a lasting impact on readers through generations.
- He made history as the first poet to recite at a presidential inauguration presenting his work at John F. Kennedy’s inauguration in 1961.
- Over the course of his distinguished career, Frost received numerous accolades including four Pulitzer Prizes securing his place as one of America’s most iconic poets.
ROMANTIC POEMS
- The Road Not Taken
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
- Fire and Ice
- Nothing Gold Can Stay
- To Earthward
- Reluctance
- Wind and Window Flower
- Love and a question
- Mending Wall
- Acquainted with the Night
- Birches
- A Minor Bird
1.The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And I stood still, where they both stood.
One path stretched far, where I could see,
The other called softly, beckoning me.
Oh, choices made beneath the trees,
Echo through time like whispered pleas.
Two paths ahead, one traveler there,
A step to take, the future laid bare.
I took the road less traveled on,
Grass unbroken, where sunlight shone.
The leaves untouched, no steps had laid,
A choice in silence, a mark I made.
Oh, choices made beneath the trees,
Echo through time like whispered pleas.
Two paths ahead, one traveler there,
A step to take, the future laid bare.
And someday far in years unknown,
I’ll tell this tale, my seeds now sown.
A sigh will linger in my refrain,
For roads I’ll never walk again.
Oh, choices made beneath the trees,
Echo through time like whispered pleas.
Two paths ahead, one traveler there,
A step to take, the future laid bare.
Two roads diverged, the choice was mine,
And that has made all the difference in time.
2.Stopping by Woods On A snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are, I think I know,
His house stands in the village glow.
He’ll never see me stopping here,
To watch the snow, so soft and clear.
Oh, the woods so deep, so still, so white,
They call to me in the fading light.
But promises wait, and a path I keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
My little horse must think it strange,
To halt where no farm lies in range.
Between the woods and the frozen lake,
On this dark evening, no sounds awake.
Oh, the woods so deep, so still, so white,
They call to me in the fading light.
But promises wait, and a path I keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
A shake of bells, a gentle plea,
“Is there some mistake?” he asks of me.
The only sound, the wind’s soft sigh,
And snowflakes falling from the sky.
Oh, the woods so deep, so still, so white,
They call to me in the fading light.
But promises wait, and a path I keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep.
The road ahead is long and steep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
3.Fire and Ice
By Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
A blaze of passion, rising higher.
Some say the end will come in ice,
Cold and sharp, a chilling vice.
Oh, fire burns with fierce desire,
While ice can freeze the heart entire.
Both can bring destruction near,
An end to all we hold so dear.
From what I’ve tasted, fire’s the choice,
A blazing flame with a roaring voice.
But ice, I’ve seen its frozen weight,
And know it, too, could seal our fate.
Oh, fire burns with fierce desire,
While ice can freeze the heart entire.
Both can bring destruction near,
An end to all we hold so dear.
If twice the world must meet its end,
Both fire and ice could well contend.
Each holds power to suffice,
To bring the end, both fire and ice.
4.Nothing Gold Can Stay
By Robert Frost
Nature’s first green shines like gold,
A fleeting treasure, bright and bold.
Her earliest leaf, a bloom so rare,
But only for an hour does it share.
Oh, golden hues, they fade away,
For nothing gold can ever stay.
A fleeting spark, a brief display,
For nothing gold can ever stay.
The leaf falls back to leaf once more,
As Eden grieves what came before.
The dawn must yield to the light of day,
For nothing gold can ever stay.
Oh, golden hues, they fade away,
For nothing gold can ever stay.
A fleeting spark, a brief display,
For nothing gold can ever stay.
5.To Earthward
By Robert Frost
Love at the lips was a tender touch,
As sweet as I could bear so much.
Once it seemed too much to stay,
I lived on air that swept my way.
Oh, the breeze from hidden springs,
The scent of dusk and whispered things.
A swirl of musk, a gentle ache,
From honeysuckle blooms that shake.
I craved the sweets, the young delight,
The rose’s petal, soft and bright.
But even then, its sting was near,
A hint of salt within the clear.
Oh, the joys that fade with time,
Are dashed with pain, and marked with grime.
Now I crave the tear’s deep stain,
The bitter clove, the sweet in pain.
When stiff and scarred, my hand I lift,
From earth and grass, a grounding gift.
The hurt is light; I long for more,
The roughened weight of earth’s full store.
Oh, the joys that fade with time,
Are dashed with pain, and marked with grime.
Now I crave the tear’s deep stain,
The bitter clove, the sweet in pain.
6.Reluctance
By Robert Frost
Out through the fields, through woods so deep,
Over the walls where shadows creep.
I’ve climbed the hills and seen the view,
Then turned back home as all things do.
And now, at last, the journey’s through,
The end is here, the end is true.
The leaves lie dead upon the ground,
Except the oak still clings around.
It lets them fall, one by one,
To scrape and creep when the day is done.
Across the snow, while others sleep,
The wind will carry what they keep.
Oh, the dead leaves lie, huddled and still,
No longer dancing at winter’s will.
The last lone bloom has faded away,
The witch hazel flowers begin to decay.
The heart still aches, it seeks to roam,
But the feet now whisper, “Where is home?”
When has it ever been less than pain,
To let things go, to loosen the chain?
To drift with time, to bow and bend,
To accept the close of love or a friend.
Oh, how the heart fights reason’s plea,
Longing for what can never be.
7.Wind and Window Flower
By Robert Frost
Oh, lovers, forget your tender ties,
And hear of love beneath the skies.
She was a flower at the pane,
He was a breeze in winter’s reign.
When the frost upon the glass would fade,
And noon’s warm light through her veil played,
The caged bird sang its golden tune,
While he watched her in the afternoon.
Oh, the breeze, he passed her by,
With a sigh beneath the winter sky.
And he vowed to return once more,
To the flower he could not ignore.
He was the wind, so wild and free,
With ice and snow his company.
Dead weeds and lonely birds he knew,
But of her love, he had no clue.
He sighed against the windowpane,
And shook the sash in cold refrain.
The night bore witness to his plea,
As hearts lay restless, yearning to see.
Perchance he almost won her heart,
To join him where the cold winds start.
But the flower leaned, with naught to say,
And morning sent the breeze away.
Oh, the breeze, he passed her by,
With a sigh beneath the winter sky.
And a hundred miles he strayed by dawn,
While the flower stayed where she belonged.
8.Love and a Question
By Robert Frost
A stranger came at the fall of eve,
With a green-white stick and care to weave.
He stood at the door with eyes that pled,
For shelter’s warmth, a place to rest his head.
Oh, the wind it sighed, the night grew cold,
And the stranger’s story remained untold.
The road stretched far, without a light,
While the bridegroom gazed into the night.
The bridegroom stepped to the porch to say,
“Let’s question the skies of the night and day.
Stranger, the woodbine leaves now fall,
And winter whispers its distant call.”
Inside the bride by the fire’s glow,
Dreamed of love’s warmth, its steady flow.
Her face rose-red, her heart’s desire,
Reflected deep in the open fire.
Oh, the wind it sighed, the night grew cold,
And the stranger’s story remained untold.
The bridegroom’s heart was torn in two,
“What should I offer? What must I do?”
He wished her heart in a golden case,
Pinned with silver, a sacred place.
Yet turned to ponder the stranger’s plight,
On this their home’s most tender night.
A dole of bread, a purse of care,
A prayer for the poor, a curse for despair.
But to mar their love with woe so near,
The bridegroom whispered, “What’s right is unclear.”
Oh, the wind it sighed, the night grew cold,
And the stranger’s story remained untold.
The questions lingered, heavy and true,
“What would love and duty have me do?
9.Mending wall
by Robert Frost
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
It sends the frozen ground to make it fall.
The boulders spill beneath the sun,
And gaps appear where two can run.
Oh, the hunters leave the stones displaced,
Seeking rabbits, the wall erased.
At spring’s mending-time, we find them there,
And meet to mend with equal care.
We walk the line, the wall between,
And balance stones where gaps are seen.
Some are loaves, and some near spheres,
We work until the wall appears.
Oh, he says, “Good fences make good neighbors true,”
But I wonder if that’s really due.
No cows are here to roam astray,
So why this wall to block the way?
Before I’d build, I’d pause to ask,
What’s walled within, what’s in this task?
Something there is that wants it gone,
The pull of spring, the morning dawn.
But he brings his stones with steady hand,
Like an old-stone warrior in the land.
He will not stray from words of old,
“Good fences make good neighbors” told.
Oh, the wall, it stands, a solemn line,
Between his pines and my orchard fine.
But I wonder still, as seasons blend,
What we keep out, and what we defend.
10.Acquainted with Night
by Robert Frost
I’ve walked alone in the depths of night,
Through rain that fell and rain’s respite.
I’ve wandered far beyond the glow,
Where the city lights no longer show.
I’ve gazed down lanes of shadowed pain,
And crossed the paths of silent disdain.
The watchman passed, his eyes met mine,
But I turned away, gave no sign.
Oh, I’ve stopped to hear a distant cry,
From streets unseen beneath the sky.
Not meant for me, no call, no song,
A fleeting sound that moved along.
And high above, where stars take flight,
A clock shone bright in endless night.
Its face proclaimed no wrong, no right,
Just time’s indifference to my plight.
I’ve been a soul who knows the night,
A quiet world without the light.
Its whispers haunt, its silence stays,
Through endless steps and shadowed ways.
11. Birches
By Robert Frost
When I see birches bend and sway,
Across the lines where dark trees stay,
I like to think a boy once climbed,
And swung them high in youthful time.
But ice storms bend them low to ground,
Their icy coats with cracking sound.
The sun will shed their crystal shells,
Like shattered glass where silence dwells.
They arch for years beneath their load,
Trails of leaves along the road.
Yet still, I’d rather dream the tale,
Of boys who swung them without fail.
A boy too far from town to play,
Would climb the trees in his own way.
Subduing branches, riding high,
Reaching upward to the sky.
I see myself in days gone by,
Swinging birches, reaching the sky.
When life was simple, free, and clear,
No tangled paths, no cobwebs near.
Now weary, tired of the fray,
I dream of swinging far away.
Not to escape, but to begin,
To touch the sky and fall again.
Earth’s the place where love abides,
Its gentle pull, its endless tides.
I’d climb a birch and reach for more,
Till it dipped and brought me to the floor.
For going, coming, here or there,
The birches swing with tender care.
And I can say with truth at last,
One could do worse than live the past.
12.A Minor Bird
by Robert frost
Verse 1)
I’ve wished the bird would fly away,
And leave my house in quiet today.
Its song would linger, sharp and clear,
A tune my heart refused to hear.
Oh, the fault, it lies with me,
Not the bird, nor its melody.
How could I long to hush the song,
When music heals where hearts go wrong?
I clapped my hands to chase it far,
But it stayed beneath the morning star.
Its voice, so steady, held its place,
While I retreated from its grace.
Oh, the fault, it lies with me,
Not the bird, nor its melody.
How could I long to hush the song,
When music heals where hearts go wrong?
Perhaps the song was meant to stay,
To show my heart another way.
For silencing joy, it seems so clear,
Is losing all that draws us near.
So let the bird keep singing strong,
Its voice belongs where hearts belong.
I’ll learn to love its melody,
And let it set my spirit free.